


Halloweentown

by Charmkeeper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fantasy Violence, Gladnis, Halloweentown AU, Happy Ending, M/M, Promptis - Freeform, Warlocks, magic shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmkeeper/pseuds/Charmkeeper
Summary: Noctis has always loved Halloween, but his family has never celebrated it. When an old friend of his father's shows up and says that there's a problem, Noctis finds out the truth. The whole family is magic, and his father's childhood home is a place called Halloweentown.There's trouble brewing in Halloweentown. Noctis and his family are perhaps the only ones that can help.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 60
Kudos: 41
Collections: Halloween Big Bang FF XV 2020





	1. In Which Noctis Learns an Odd Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, and Happy Halloween!
> 
> I decided to participate in the FFXV Halloween Big Bang this year, and this is my entry. 
> 
> My partner in art is Tyger/Mikey, who can be found [here! (Please click me!)](https://www.instagram.com/tyger_prints/) They were genuinely such a joy to work with, and I can't wait for you to see their accompanying art in chapter five! <3 *shriek of joy*
> 
> At any rate, please, please, please enjoy my Halloween offering, which I hope will tickle many of your nostalgic nerves, as writing this tickled mine.

Their house didn’t even have a jack-o-lantern.

It never did. For as long as Noctis could remember, their house had been the only one on the entire block that didn’t have anything at all. Their porch light wasn’t even turned on. The other children had long since learned to skip their house, and all Noctis could do about it was stand at their front window watching all the beautiful costumes go back and forth and add in the occasional sigh.

The sighing wasn’t going to help him. His father wasn’t home, and Ignis wasn’t the sort of person easily swayed into any sort of shenanigans. Still, it was Halloween, which he loved as much as his father despised it, and he felt that at the age of fifteen his father could have at least allowed him to spend it at a friend’s house, or at least let him go trick or treating once. He was almost too old for it now. He’d begged all month, but the answer was the same no he always got.

In the end, it was the smell of food wafting in from the kitchen that made Noctis abandon his post at the window and drift in to sit at their kitchen table. Since their mother’s death, it had been Ignis to take over all the cooking. It was for the best, he always said. Their father worked long hours at the office making ends meet. The least they could do for him was make sure the house stayed neat and there were no worries over what they’d be eating.

Noctis thought that was how Ignis dealt with the grief. He’d tried to move in and take over her spot, to fill the hole she’d left in whatever way he could. Noctis had done the opposite. He’d retreated more into himself. That was how they were about everything. Noctis and Ignis were the opposite about everything. It made enough sense. Ignis was adopted, and though he’d only been two or three when he’d come into the family, he’d always done his best to be the absolutely perfect child, as though he somehow still knew the other option.

It made Ignis boring. He was so _normal_ that he wore button ups and sweater vests, because he liked them. He was so _normal_ that the books he read never had any pictures in them. He was so _normal_ that after he graduated and the next school year came, he was going to go off and learn to be a lawyer. A lawyer! How much more straight-laced could you get?

Ignis was so boring and eager to please that he agreed with their father about Halloween. He tutted when the stores started putting out their Halloween displays. He closed his eyes in feigned patience when he and their father argued about what would be going on for Halloween that year. Ignis didn’t believe in “childish” things like magic and ghosts, and Noctis didn’t really blame him for that, but couldn’t he just have fun? Pretend? For one night? What was so terrible about Halloween? They could never tell him.

“I do wish you would stop sulking.” Ignis hadn’t even glanced up at him but was instead laser focused on his pot of whatever he was making. “In a few years you’ll be old enough to live on your own, and then you can have Halloween all year round if you so desire.”

“It’s not the same, Specs.” Noctis sighed, letting his head sink down to the table. “Adults don’t trick or treat. It’s creepy.”

“Hmm.” Noctis heard the tap-tap-tap of Ignis’ spoon on the edge of his pot. “There are still costume parties, and horror movies, and even more candy than you can eat. All without the inherent danger of knocking on the doors of total strangers.”

“Still different. It’s like. You don’t know, one night could change your life! For me that’s what Halloween feels like.”

Ignis sighed. “Of course it does.” Noctis lifted his head after a beat too long of silence. Ignis had turned around, one of his tasting spoons being dragged out of his mouth at a torturously slow pace as he studied Noctis behind his glasses. “Why does it have to be Halloween?” he asked once the spoon was free of his lips only to be tossed into the sink.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why can’t you pick a different holiday to obsess over? Such as . . . ” Ignis’ voice drifted off for a second, and Noctis swore that if the next word out of his mouth was Christmas, he was going to get up out of this chair and punch his brother. “Arbor Day.”

Noctis snorted. “Arbor Day? Really?”

“Yes,” Ignis said firmly, his voice holding only the utmost seriousness. “Trees have feelings, too, Noct.” His tone was deadly serious, but Noctis didn’t miss the barest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, okay, Specs.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sure you are.” Noctis huffed, somehow feeling better despite himself. “What are you making, anyway?”

“Corn chowder.”

“Sounds gross.”

“You’ve never even had it, and you like corn. It’s the only vegetable you like.”

Noctis smiled wide. “Technically--”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘Technically corn is a grain,’ corn will become the only grain you will ever consume again.”

That was not an idle threat. Noctis shut his mouth, or he shut his mouth until he realized he had something else to say. “What else are you making? I’m not just smelling soup.”

“Chowder,” Ignis corrected first before moving onto addressing his question. “As for the other thing I’m making, well. It’s a surprise, and you shall have to wait.”

Noctis had been just about ready to buckle himself down to try and drag the answer out of Ignis when the doorbell chimed. The chime hadn’t even stopped ringing before Noctis was up out of his chair. Someone? At their door? On Halloween? It was probably a mistake. It was probably someone who didn’t know they didn’t hand out candy, but it was exciting all the same.

Behind him, he heard Ignis sigh, and then he heard the oven door open and close. “It’s probably just father!” he called. “He probably forgot his keys or somesuch!”

Despite the warning, Noctis opened the door with enthusiasm and found that he was right to do so, because who he found behind the door was not his father at all. In fact it was two someones who weren’t their father.

At a glance, Noctis might have said they were trick or treaters. They were certainly not dressed like normal people. They had cloaks and odd boots. The older of them was even wearing a pointy hat, but that was the whole problem. They were older. The younger of them was probably Ignis’ age, maybe a year or two older, but the older one was graying just like their own father was. Definitely too old to be trick or treaters.

“Can I help you?” came Ignis’ voice from behind him. Noctis jumped a little. Why was he so quiet when he walked?!

“Ah, yes,” said the older man. “I know neither of you would really remember me. It’s been . . . too long. My name is Clarus, and this is my son, Gladio.”

“Hey,” said Gladio, nodding his head.

“Hey,” Noctis returned.

Ignis said nothing, but Noctis could hear him folding his arms over his chest.

Clarus continued. “I’m an old friend of your father’s. And your mother, though for a shorter amount of time.”

“Odd. Neither of them ever mentioned you to us.” Ignis didn’t mention that their mother was dead now. Noctis didn’t either. It had only been three years. It still felt . . . raw. Too often.

Clarus coughed awkwardly. “Yes, well. As I said, it was quite a long time ago. We were . . . hoping to speak with Regis. Is he home?”

Noctis could practically feel Ignis digging his feet in through the floor down to the foundation. “I don’t see why I should tell you anything.”

“It’s all right, Ignis.” When had Dad’s car pulled up? He hadn’t heard it. He certainly hadn’t heard him get out or seen him walking up until now. “He’s not lying. The Amicitias are old family friends. Are you staying for supper?”

“If that’s all right.”

“Ignis?”

“I did make enough for two nights.” His voice was strained, and Noctis had no doubt that Ignis was clenching his jaw.

“Perfect,” their father said. “Then that’s settled.” Both Ignis and Noctis had to move aside to let them all in, but Ignis lingered by the door even as Noctis and their new guests made their way toward the kitchen. “Be kind to them, dear Ignis,” he heard his dad say to his brother. “They mean no harm.”

“Everyone wants something” was all Ignis said in return before he walked past them all so quickly that Noctis could feel the breeze come off of him.

The thing that Ignis had taken out of the oven turned out to be pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, which delighted Noctis to no end until his father ruined it by commending Ignis for sneaking a vegetable even into a dessert item. Damn. Now he had to hate pumpkin spice, too, just to spite them for conspiring against him.

At their house, dinner was normally a quiet affair. They ate and didn’t talk a great deal. Mom had been the talker, a trait Noctis had not really inherited beyond poking holes at Ignis, and after her death, dinner talk had been reduced to news about school.

Having Clarus and Gladio at their table changed the atmosphere completely. Clarus liked to laugh, and Gladio liked to smile with him, as did their father, which was odd. To say he had lost his smile since Mom’s passing would be too strong a statement, but he had definitely lost a spark that somehow seemed to reignite as he talked to his old friend. They’d been friends since childhood, Noctis gathered as they talked, but had lost touch after he had moved here with Mom.

“The last time I saw either of you was when Regis and Aulea adopted you, Ignis.” Clarus said, “Your parents were friends, too. You used to have playdates with Gladio.” Noctis saw it for what it was. An attempt to reach out to Ignis, to share something nice with him.

Ignis wasn’t having it.

“How lovely. If you will please excuse me, I have a test tomorrow, and I ought to study.” He didn’t actually wait for an answer. Instead, he rose to his feet, took his and Noctis’ plates, deposited them into the sink, and retreated up the stairs faster than Noctis thought possible.

Their father sighed. “Please excuse him, Clarus, Gladio. I’d say he isn’t always like that except, well. He is.”

“It’s all right, Regis. To him, we’re strangers, and I know people here don’t always take well to them. Perhaps, in time, we won’t be strangers to him anymore.”

His dad smiled wide. “I’d like that.”

“As it does happen, though, we didn’t just drop by for an idle chat and dinner. I would like to talk to you about something.”

His father’s smile faded a little. “Is it serious?”

“Unfortunately.”

His father then turned to him, “Noct, why don’t you take Gladio up to your room? I’m sure he’ll appreciate your crystal collection.”

He knew he was being sent away so that the “grown-ups” could talk, and yet, at the same time, he rarely ever got to show off his collection to anyone new. His friends had all seen it, and the ones that hadn’t weren’t really interested. “You wanna?”

“Sure.” Gladio shrugged, but it wasn’t like Ignis’ shrug. It was easygoing, casual, and not dismissive. “Let’s go.”

Noctis led the way up the stairs, purposely not pausing when they passed by Ignis’ room even though it wasn’t quite closed and the light from within filtered out onto the floor and wall. Ignis’ room was boring, anyway. Not like his when he opened his door.

Like all bedrooms, it had started out boring with just a bed, dresser, desk, and whatever stuffed animals had survived the various purges, but as he’d gotten older, his own personality had been injected into the room. The walls had posters of the bands he liked, and the bookshelves had manga and figurines. The desk didn’t have textbooks on it but instead was littered with sketchbooks and markers that Ignis would tut over if he knew they’d been out for weeks.

His crystal collection was kept in a box under his bed, and Gladio settled down into his desk chair while he got it out. “I’ve been collecting them since I was like five,” he explained before he opened it up.

Gladio peered inside, taking in all the different stones before he asked, “Can I touch them?”

“Sure.” Noctis shrugged. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something a little uneasy about letting Gladio touch them, but no one else had ever asked before. No one had really taken that much interest in them before.

He watched, a little on edge as Gladio examined each and every one of the crystals. He had something to say about each one. He commented on their clarity, shade, size, or shape before putting them back. It was nice, because he didn’t seem bored. Most people liked seeing them once, but they didn’t take an actual interest. Not like this.

Once he’d gone through every single crystal in the box, Gladio sat back in the chair and asked a question that Noctis would later realize was the question that would change his life. “So which one is your warlock’s stone?”

“My what?”

Gladio’s nose crinkled in a way that mirrored how confused Noctis felt. “Your warlock’s stone. I left mine at home, but every witch or warlock has one, to help them power bigger spells.”

“Not funny,” Noctis pouted. “It’s Halloween, yeah, but magic’s not real.”

Gladio stared at him, and Noctis stared back until Gladio frowned so deeply it made lines around his mouth. “You really don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“About . . . anything. About home, or magic, or . . . anything.” Gladio seemed baffled, but it was Noctis who felt like he should be the confused one. “You’re a Lucis-Caelum, Noctis. That blood makes you a scion of the strongest house of magic. I wasn’t kidding. You are a warlock.”

Noctis shook his head a little. He could barely believe what he was hearing, and yet . . . he wanted to. “And you are, too?”

“Yeah. So’s your dad, and Ignis, too, though he’s the last of the Scientia line. Not a Lucis-Caelum.” Gladio was quiet for a second before he whispered, “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“Okay,” Noctis said, nodding, trying to both take this in and not be too gullible at the same time. Ignis was going to scold him. For being gullible. “So say this is all true. Let’s just say that.”

“It is. It’s all true.”

“So where’s home?”

Gladio smiled. “We call it Halloweentown. Before you knock it,” he said quickly, “It does have some ancient Latin name that no one ever uses anymore. It’s just Halloweentown.”

“Okay,” Noctis said, nodding his head. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s like here mostly, except the costumes aren’t costumes. Everything lives there: goblins, fairies, elves, ogres, witches, warlocks, banshees, dragons, cyclops . . . just everything. Everything except humans.”

“Why?”

“Well, humans hunted us. We wanted somewhere safe, and so all the creatures decided to go somewhere else. Halloweentown was that somewhere else. Separate from here, but parallel. We regard humans as the most dangerous things of all, really. Humans start wars. Humans kill for fun. Halloweentown doesn’t have that. We live together in peace. That’s the whole point.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is,” Gladio was quick to assure him before his face fell into a frown. “Mostly.”

“You should be getting ready for bed, Noct.”

“Specs!” Noctis didn’t even listen to the words. They were familiar words that washed over him without even registering at this point. Bedtime meant nothing when Gladio was weaving something he very much would like to be reality. “You should come listen.” Gladio had said that Ignis was a warlock too. If it was a lie, why would he include Ignis? Why wouldn’t he just tell Noctis that he was special?

Ignis lingered in the doorway as he appeared to consider whether this gave him permission to enter Noctis’ room. After a moment or three he settled on yes and walked, arms still folded over his chest, over to the desk. “And just what am I supposed to be listening to?”

“Gladio’s telling me about Halloweentown and about how we’re warlocks.”

If Noctis had expected Ignis to have any sort of a positive reaction to this he was wrong. Later he’d realize that of course he shouldn’t have expected that. Ignis was normal, boring, and didn’t even like Halloween. Why would he have ever thought that Ignis would want to hear any of that? Perhaps to his credit, Ignis didn’t yell or scream. He only heaved a sigh before he set his sights on Gladio. “I feel I ought to tell you that Noctis is likely to believe anything he is told, should he want it enough. You should tell him that you’re just weaving stories.”

Noctis had never seen anyone who could match Ignis glare for glare, but Gladio came awfully close in that moment, their eyes narrowed at one another in what Noctis would almost call hate. “It’s not weaving stories. It’s true.” Gladio huffed. “Do you really not remember? Because I remember you. Dad wasn’t lying about those playdates. We were close. Friends. We were going to train in magic together.”

“I remember absolutely nothing from before I was so graciously adopted by the Lucis-Caelums, and I know exactly the perfect place for you to shove your stories about warlocks and magical towns--”

“Woah! Iggy, stop!” Ignis did, if only to purse his lips tightly together instead. “Our dads are downstairs, right? Let’s go talk to them about it.” He didn’t want to suggest it, because, well, if it really was just a tall tale, their fathers would shatter the illusion, but Noctis also didn’t want a fist fight in his room. “Yeah? Let’s go?”

“Yes,” Ignis said, eyes never leaving Gladio’s own. “Let’s.”

Noctis led the way down the stairs, knowing Gladio was behind him and Ignis was bringing up the rear like a nerdy prison guard. His brain knew that Ignis was probably right. After all, he’d lived fifteen years with no sign of magic in his life, so why should he believe a guy that he’d only just met a couple hours ago that said there was a whole other dimension of magic that he belonged in? It was his heart. That was why. His heart told him it was true. He’d always been waiting.

Gladio said Ignis was a warlock, too. Was his problem that his heart had given up on waiting?

Their fathers were both sitting on their old couch in the living room. Gladio’s dad looked almost angry, but when their dad looked at them, he offered them a smile that seemed . . . nervous. “You three look very serious.”

“Gladio has been trying to feed Noctis the most absurd stories.”

Their father raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“I told him that they were warlocks. I started to tell them about Halloweentown.”

Behind them, Noctis was almost positive that Ignis was muttering something about ridiculousness to himself. Noctis’ eyes were on their father and how solemn he looked. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too quiet to hear. “I had been going to tell you on your eighteenth birthdays.”

“What?!” He’d been hoping, but hearing him say something like that was almost too much.

“Your mother and I decided that since we were raising you here, we wanted you to have a normal human childhood. When that childhood was coming to an end, we’d tell you about magic and the other side of things, let you get to know it, let you make up your own minds about it.” He looked past Noctis back at Ignis. “Your eighteenth was so close, and you’re so practical. I was having a hard time figuring out how I was going to tell you.”

“Surprise,” Ignis hissed, his voice a mixed bag of angry bitterness. “Now you don’t have to.”

“No,” their father disagreed. “There’s a lot to still tell you, but perhaps not now.”

“I’ve been telling him,” Clarus said, more to Gladio than to either of them, Noctis thought, “about what’s happening back home.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” their father agreed. “I’ve decided I will come help. It’s our job as warlocks to help when things go wrong, and if no one else wants to, then I will.” He turned to them again, his children, almost as an afterthought. “You two should stay here. Perhaps Gladio will stay, too--”

“No way!” Noctis was putting his foot down on this one. “I don’t care if there are problems. I wanna see it! You can’t just say I’m a warlock, tell me that you’re really from a place called Halloweentown after all these years of not even letting me celebrate Halloween - what’s up with that, by the way - and then just send me to bed! I wanna see! I wanna know!”

“I, on the other hand,” Ignis put in, “am perfectly willing to go to bed and wake up in the morning. When sanity has been restored.”

“No,” their father sighed. “Noctis is right. It might be a bit dangerous, but . . . no one’s died. Correct?”

Clarus nodded his head. “People are missing, but no bodies have been found.”

“Then Noctis is right. It’s not fair to tell you one bit and not all of it. We’ll all go.” Noctis didn’t have to look back at his brother to know that he was making the face he always made when something didn’t go quite his way. His eyes would be narrowed, and his lips would be pursed together. Noctis, on the other hand, was excited. It felt like the thing he’d been waiting for his whole life was about to happen.

“Shall we go right now, then?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better. We only have until midnight.”

“That’s only like. Five hours.” Really more like four. It was almost eight. Noctis scrunched his nose. Five hours did not seem like enough time to go somewhere, take care of evil (like in a movie or comic book!), and come back. And why only until midnight, anyway?!

Gladio chuckled. “Time’s a little different there and here. A year there feels like a hundred years. In Halloweentown, we have plenty of time to spare.”

Noctis tried not to think about the implications of that. What he did try to do was figure out how long it would feel like they had in Halloweentown if that were true. “So if every hour is like a hundred hours . . That’s like. . .”

“A little over four days.”

“Times four?” He looked back at his brother, who sighed at him.

“That’s even simpler math, Noctis. Sixteen days.”

“So we’ll have sixteen days in Halloweentown?”

“No,” Gladio said. “We’ll have four hours, but to you it’ll feel like sixteen days.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You will,” he promised. Noctis couldn’t wait.

He turned his attention back to their dads, and found that they were facing each other, hands touching palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip, and they were saying something very softly. It was too soft for Noctis to hear, but he could tell they were saying it in unison. “What are they doing?”

“They’re summoning the portal.”

As soon as Gladio said that, a door appeared. There was no real pomp or fanfare to it, just that suddenly there was an old fashioned looking door right in the middle of the wall that usually had all their family pictures on it. “Cool,” Noctis whispered in awe. “Isn’t it cool?!” he said, looking back at Ignis. Ignis’ face was not in awe, though. Ignis’ face said he would rather be anywhere else but there at that moment. Noctis couldn’t understand. How was this not the coolest thing ever? Especially now that it was right in front of his face?!

“Let’s go, boys,” said their father. When he opened the door and held it for them, Noctis was the first to run through.

This, he swore, was going to be the best night of his whole life.


	2. In Which Ignis Believes Nothing at All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points this chapter if you can tell me who the cab driver is! <3

This was absolutely the most bloody ridiculous thing.

Halloween was always a bit of a tumultuous day. There was always at least one argument between Regis and Noctis. Two if it started in the morning. School always felt off, because even though it wasn’t considered a national holiday, they allowed students to dress up and the teachers often even handed out candy. It was the most Halloween his brother ever got. A taste, not enough to satisfy.

Ignis didn’t bother with it at all. For him there was no point. Like most holidays, it was a social thing, for fun and for friends. None of the things that applied to Ignis at all. Regis’ rule of no going out and celebrating had never bothered him one bit. It was like school dances. Fun in theory, but the reality was you sat on the bleachers and watched everyone else have fun and you ended up . . . hollow.

Ignis was a hollow person. There wasn’t much inside of him, and he tried to fill it with things like books and studying. Noctis wasn’t like that. He could be awkward and shy, but he was filled with personality, and opinions, and feelings that he quite frankly spewed everywhere. Everyone liked him, and though Noctis didn’t like everyone in return, he liked spending time around people. He blended well, but never thoroughly. He drew the eye.

Ignis was aware that this was part of why Noctis wanted to be a part of Halloween so much. Sure, part of it was also that it was practically everything he liked rolled into one day, but it was more about the social aspect too. Ignis wasn’t blind to it. He wasn’t blind to the ennui that filled Noctis later in the day.

He wasn’t good at comfort or kind, but for his brother, he tried. Pumpkin spice cookies and harvest chowder were poor attempts, but they were all he had to offer.

What Ignis had expected out of Halloween night was some degree of sulking, a quiet, probably awkward dinner, and then to head up to his room and spend it in there studying and doing homework much like he did any other night.

What Ignis had not expected was uninvited (and frankly unwanted from his point of view) guests to come and eat dinner with them. He didn’t like or trust them. He meant what he’d said to Regis. Everyone wanted something, and “old friends” did not pop up out of the woodwork just to stop by. They definitely wanted something, and when Clarus had attempted to endear himself by mentioning his birth parents, Ignis had had enough. They weren’t going to fool him, and yet now he was . . . here.

Where was here? Here was someplace the delusion, illusion, dream, psychosis, whatever the bloody hell this was, was calling Halloweentown. Coming to Halloweentown had been immediately preceded by being told that they were all warlocks. (“You’re a wizard, Harry,” kept playing through his head on repeat.) and Regis and Clarus literally summoning a door right into their portrait wall.

Ignis wanted to wake up.

Halloweentown wasn’t an unpleasant view. The town looked much like any other historical but kept up with town. The stone buildings were bathed in a no less than ethereal twilight glow. There were shops, and carts, and trees, and yet, somehow, minus the plethora of leaves on the ground, everything seemed perfectly clean. Even the air, when Ignis breathed in, was clean, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it smelled of crisp autumn leaves and . . . apple cinnamon.

It appeared that they had stepped out into the town square, and it wasn’t empty of people. At first glance, Ignis thought that all of these people were in costume, but the longer he looked, the more he realized that, no, these people weren’t wearing costumes at all. The ogres, trolls, vampires, werewolves were all . . . real.

Ignis was going to put that in a little box and deal with that later. Or he wasn’t. Because none of this was real. Absolutely none of it.

The one thing that seemed to be missing about Halloweentown was the Halloween decorations. There didn’t seem to be any lights, no pumpkins, no black cats, no orange and black motif. Nothing at all until Noctis’ voice spoke from right beside him. “Look at that.”

Ignis turned around and--ah. There it was. Behind them was the biggest jack-o-lantern he’d ever seen. Smack dab in the middle of town square. Didn’t that just make absolutely perfect sense for somewhere named Halloweentown? Minus the people, the rest of town seemed almost too mundane, and then there was the giant pumpkin right in your face.

“It’s dark,” Noctis mumbled too quietly for anyone else to hear. “Shouldn’t it be bright?”

“It’s just a statue, Noctis. It probably doesn’t light.”

“It seems like it should, though.”

Ignis decided he wasn’t going to argue the point with Noctis and turned around to face the rest of their group, only to find that someone else had approached them. In his features, he seemed human enough, but Ignis couldn’t stop a slight wrinkle of his nose at the clothes he wore. They were quite the mish mash of patterns, textures, and colors. His hair too wasn’t quite “human” seeming. It was a color that Ignis felt belonged more on the walls of a Victorian era house.

“Regis?” The man said, eyes that were also too light to be a natural brown lighting up to almost a glow. “Is that you?”

“Ah, Ardyn. I did wonder if you were still in the area.”

The man, Ardyn, gave a single booming laugh. It was delightfully normal. “Still in the area? Why, Regis, I’m the mayor!”

“Mayor?” Regis said, sounding quite surprised. “Now, when did that happen?”

“Oh, only a few years ago. Four? Five? Who’s counting?” Ardyn seemed excitable, but naturally so. Ignis supposed he’d be happy, too, if he were mayor of what seemed to be described as some sort of pocket dimension. His hair, eyes, and clothing may have been odd, but he seemed to be the most normal being here so far. It was almost comforting. “Are these your children?”

“Yes.” Regis gestured a hand back toward them. “This is Noctis and Ignis. Noctis, Ignis, this is Ardyn. He’s . . . how far back of a cousin are you?”

“Fifth, I believe. Twice removed.”

“Yes,” Regis responded with a curt nod. “That sounds right.”

“It’s good to see you again, Ignis,” Ardyn said directly to him. “It was such a great tragedy what happened to your parents.”

“Yes,” Ignis said softly. “It was a terrible accident.” That was what he always said when his parents were brought up. He couldn’t really remember them. He’d been so young, but he remembered both of his hands being held as they crossed a street. He remembered feeling warm and safe. It had been a car accident that had taken them from him. He apparently hadn’t even been in the car.

“It was. Quite tragic.” Ignis was grateful that Ardyn moved his attention away from him, then, and those bright eyes instead focused on Noctis. “And it is quite good to finally meet you.”

“Same. I’m sure.” Noctis certainly didn’t sound sure. No. That wasn’t true. He sounded very sure in the exact opposite direction. That was odd. Usually it was him who was trying to drive people away with a couple words and a stare, not Noctis.

If Ardyn noticed that Noctis was being unfriendly, he didn’t show it and instead turned his attention to the group at large. “Were you heading up to the old manor?” He continued on without an answer, acting as though the answer was simply yes. “Let me call you a cab.”

Ardyn started walking away from them, and to Ignis’ surprise, Noctis took a step closer to him. “I don’t like him,” Noctis whispered.

“He seems perfectly fine, Noct,” he whispered back at him.

“No,” Noctis insisted. “He’s not.”

From the street corner that Ardyn had settled on, he gave a two fingered whistle. In response, an old fashioned taxi cab seemed to come roaring around the corner and came to a stop just in front of them. “Did someone call?” In the driver’s seat sat a small . . . shadow. That was all Ignis could describe it as. It wore a yellow, pointed hat and blue clothing, but between the hat and the collar was nothing but a deep blackness with two yellow orbs staring out at them. It didn’t even have a mouth to talk with.

For the five thousandth time already, Ignis wanted to go home, wake up, stop hallucinating. Something. Instead what he said was “There is no way we are all going to fit into that car.”

Naturally, he was wrong.

Ignis, Noctis, and Gladio fit into the back seat, and yes, that made sense, something of a snug fit to be sure, but they could fit. What did not make sense, though, was Regis and Clarus fitting in the front seat with the driver. Ignis chose not to comment on it. Ignis chose to look out the window over Noctis’ head as the cab took off at what felt like breakneck speed. No one else seemed concerned that they were going to crash. Ignis tried to pretend he wasn’t concerned.

“You seem to be taking this well,” Gladio commented beside him, “for someone who seemed bound and determined to believe magic isn’t real.”

“It’s still not.”

“No?”

“No.”

“All right then. Explain all of this.”

“I’m asleep and this is a dream.” Gladio snorted. Ignis ignored him. “Or I’m dead and this is hell. I’ve hit my head and I’m delusional. I’ve been drugged and this is some sort of drug induced hallucination. I could most certainly go on if you’d like.”

Gladio didn’t really answer him. Instead what he said was, “You’re not creative enough to come up with all of this.” It was an insult, but Ignis was really quite used to insults, especially from people like Gladio.

“You’d be surprised, what little gaps the brain can fill in so you don’t even notice.” And that was that.

“Is there anything about this you don’t vehemently despise?”

“The mayor seemed nice enough.”

“Yeah, he’s been good to the community. His son though . . . ” Gladio’s voice drifted off a little, and for the first time, Ignis turned his head to look at him.

“He has a son, does he?” And that was an example, right there, of all the little things one’s brain could supply.

“Yeah,” Gladio said. He nodded his head toward his window. “That’s actually him right there.” They were going far too fast for Ignis to get a terribly good look, but what Ignis did catch was a boy that was perhaps Noctis’ age with bright blond hair and . . . eyes the color of freshly spilled blood.

Those eyes were the feature that stuck in his mind, even more at the forefront of his brain than the fact that the boy had looked absolutely nothing like Ardyn at all. “His name is Prompto. Unfortunately, he’s nothing at all like his dad. He’s a little troublemaker.” Gladio didn’t elaborate on what sorts of trouble he got into, but Ignis was sure that whatever craziness this was, it was quite likely that Prompto would be brought up again. They’d probably even meet. He’d worry about it then.

The driver let them out in front of a gate and refused any sort of payment. When they looked at them, Ignis could swear that there was a smile there, even though the driver had no mouth to smile with. “Just whistle if you need me, okay? I’ll come.”

“Thank you.”

After the cab had sped around the curve, Ignis turned his attention to the gate. If they’d been a little deeper into the twilight, it might have been a spooky place, but as it was, the wrought iron gate, narrow path, and overgrown trees beyond it seemed warm and almost inviting. The spookiest thing about it was the elaborately done skull at the junction of the gate, and even that was too detailed to seem properly scary in this lighting. “It’s the Lucis-Caelum family crest,” Regis said as though he’d read his thoughts.

“I see,” Ignis said at the same time that Noctis said “Cool!”

Without further ado, Regis put his hands up on the gate, and within a second, the gate simply opened. No key to open the lock, no levers pulled, just hands and there it went. Regis and Clarus acted as though that was nothing strange at all. They walked right on through the gate, whispering amongst themselves about whatever problem Clarus had decided he’d needed Regis’ help with.

Noctis, however, turned eyes the size of dinner plates toward Gladio. “Was that magic?!” He sounded so excited and happy, and Ignis sighed to himself. He was miserable, but that was nothing new. At least Noctis was happy in this whole . . . thing. Whatever it was. Ignis loved his brother. He could not begrudge him happiness.

“That was definitely magic,” Gladio said with the sort of smile that teenage boys used to try and get teenage girls to blush and stammer. On Gladio, the effect was likely magnified as an attempt to get every teenage girl in a five block radius to fall to their knees. Ignis barely resisted rolling his eyes. Gladio should not be using that sort of an expression around Noctis. “Just a little magic, but still magic.”

“How did he do it?”

“Well.” Gladio and Noctis began walking up the path, and Ignis followed, arms crossed. He was listening, but he wasn’t watching. He decided the trees were much more interesting. “Magic is like . . . wishing. For most of the smaller stuff, all you do is want something, wish for something, and then you just sort of let yourself have it.”

Well, presuming all of this was real (which it still wasn’t), if that was how magic worked, Ignis would never be able to do it. He’d learned long ago that wishing got you nowhere. Wanting got you nothing. If you wanted something you had to earn it, and even then it often wasn’t really what you wanted, just a pale imitation of what you really craved. Noctis had not yet been forced to learn that lesson. If wishing for things was all that magic was, he’d do well.

“But there’s other types too?”

“Oh yeah. There’s potions, brews, rituals, incantations, and all sorts of other things. The portal that brings us back and forth requires two witches or warlocks working in tandem, as you saw earlier. Little stuff, basic stuff, is just wishing, though.”

“I wanna learn!”

“You will,” Gladio promised. “You’re a Lucis-Caelum. You’re gonna be great at everything.” That would be no change from everyday life at all. Noctis had always been one of those to naturally have a knack for everything. Of course, that applied here, too. He supposed he ought to find that comforting. If this were real (it wasn’t), it would only be more of the same.

It wasn’t comforting at all.

Ignis chose to tune out the rest of their conversation up to the house. The house was more . . . a manor. It was huge. At least twice, if not thrice, the size of their home and ten times as cluttered inside. Ignis shuddered to even imagine trying to clean this mess. There were cobwebs everywhere, books scattered all over. One of them was even open. It had at least an inch of dust between it and the actual page it was open to.

There was a cauldron in the living room. When Ignis dared to look inside it he was fairly certain that a spider the size of his own head peered back at him. Startled, he took in a sharp breath and a step back. No. He could never be happy somewhere like this. The little voice in his head reminded him that he wasn’t happy, anyway. Life wasn’t about happiness. No. It wasn’t, but at least he could keep his life clean and organized and not . . . this.

“Are you all right, Ignis?” Regis appeared at his shoulder.

“I’m quite fine. Just.” He gestured at the cauldron. “I think there’s a giant spider in there.”

“Ah. Yes. Lucy, probably.” Regis said it so casually. Like this was a normal size for a spider! “She used to be so small. Don’t worry, Ignis. She’s friendly.”

“The nicest spider I’ve ever met, I’m sure.” If Regis caught his sarcasm, he didn’t show it. Instead, he saw Regis nod in his peripheral, and then he moved onto a far more distressing topic. “Your parents’ home isn’t all that far from here. We can go there after this, if you like.”

“Absolutely not,” Ignis said immediately, just as Gladio walked into the room. “I think I’d honestly rather die.”

He walked away toward the doorway that Gladio was currently blocking. “Move, Gladio.”

“What is your problem?” Gladio said to him, and here. Here was the confrontation he’d been waiting for. The confrontation he always had to have with people like Gladio. “Why do you have to have such a broomstick up your ass all the time?”

Ignis wasn’t having it. He didn’t need another bully disguised as a jock in his face. He didn’t need another person telling him how unlikable he was. He wasn’t having it. “Gladio. Get out of my way. Or I will make you.”

That worked. He narrowed his eyes, but Gladio moved. Ignis walked past him without another word. Past him, through the kitchen, back out the door. The paint of the exterior was peeling, but Ignis paid it no mind. He leaned against it anyway, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He didn’t let them, though. That was another lesson he’d already learned. If he cried as much as he wanted to, why, he’d likely never stop.


	3. In Which Gladio Changes His Mind

Gladio couldn’t understand Ignis.

He understood that it was partially Regis’ fault. His father’s old friend had hidden magic from the two kids in his house. Between the two of them, though, Gladio would expect Noctis to be the one who’d struggle with the reality of magic and Halloweentown. Noctis, after all, had never been here, never lived here. Ignis had.

When Gladio said that they’d once been friends, it really wasn’t a lie. They’d both been young still, but he definitely remembered running around his house with a much smaller version of Ignis. He remembered that he’d had glasses even then, but behind them had been eyes the deep yet bright color of emeralds.

Ignis didn’t have emerald eyes now. The word he thought humans would use to describe them was hazel, not really truly this color or that. It was worrying. Magic was a use it or lose it kind of thing, especially when you were young. Noctis clearly still had a lot of magic in his veins. His eyes were storms, and Gladio had no doubt when he tapped into magic, they’d glow. Ignis’ eyes should have regained some of their vividness when he’d simply been told. They hadn’t. If anything, they’d dulled. But why?

The answer was quite simple. Ignis didn’t believe. He squashed the magic inside of him down as far as he could, suffocating it - killing it. Gladio couldn’t understand.

It was disappointing for him, too. When his father had told him where they were going, Gladio had thought he was going to make a new friend and reconnect with an old one. Clearly, that wasn’t meant to be. Ignis not only didn’t remember him, but also wasn’t interested in remembering him, getting to know him now, or coming into his magic at all. In fact, Ignis acted like he’d rather be anywhere other than here. Gladio didn’t really care for the person Ignis had become. His smile was exchanged for a glower he inflicted on everyone and everything. He was someone who resolutely enjoyed nothing and was determined to make sure no one else enjoyed anything, either.

Noctis was the complete opposite. His eyes took in everything, and he wanted it all. He didn’t scream and shout. He didn’t run and flail, but Gladio could see the sparkle. He could see the want. To Noctis, this was the best thing that had ever happened, and Gladio wasn’t about to let anything ruin that now.

Nothing included the troubles currently going on in town, and so Gladio was happy to stand guard between Noctis’ exploration and their fathers talking. They kept their voices low, but Noctis seemed to neither notice nor care. Perhaps Ignis would have noticed, but Ignis with that broomstick up his ass was out on the back porch doing absolutely nothing to enrich himself. That made Noctis his only charge, and that was certainly easy. All Gladio had to do was settle himself against the kitchen door frame, and Noctis didn’t even come near it. In fact, Gladio was fairly certain he could hear Noctis running up the stairs to the second floor.

Maybe Gladio should follow. There were probably things up there that Regis didn’t want a fifteen year old to find, but he lingered for a minute to listen to his father and Regis talk.

“All right, run me through it again, one more time.”

“People are disappearing.”

“Right, I got that. Though you do know that sometimes people move, don’t you?”

Gladio couldn’t see it, but he knew his father was giving his old friend some sort of stink eye, despite Regis’ teasing tone. “But they don’t tell you they’re leaving. There’s no moving trucks, so magic movers, no nothing. It’s more than that, too. Right before they vanish they . . . change. You know how Halloweentown is. Friendly people who appreciate their peace. It may have been generations ago, but people still remember the times when we were hunted. I can’t speak for the outliers outside of town, but inside the town we’ve always been nice people.”

“I can’t argue. It’s not as though I left because I was unhappy.”

His father sighed. “That’s the thing, Regis. That hasn’t changed, not until now. It’s such a sudden change. Neighbors who were once nice, who volunteered, who baked cookies for the neighborhood children are suddenly throwing things, yelling, angry people. It’s only a couple of days after the change sets in before they just . . . vanish. Homes are empty, but no one seems to notice or care. My own wife, Regis. She can’t understand why I’m worried!”

“That’s why you came to me.”

“Of course. I didn’t want to disturb you. I know you chose that life and wanted to remain even after Aulea’s death, but . . . I need help. This is more than something Gladio and I can handle. I need . . . I need my circle, and with the Scientias gone . . . ” His voice trailed off, but Regis picked it up.

“You at least need me.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? What do we need to do?”

“I just. We. Just.” His father sighed. “We need to know what we’re up against. We can’t do anything without knowing what we’re fighting. I have some items from some of our missing neighbors. I haven’t been able to get a good tracking spell on them alone--”

“--which is odd,” Regis interjected. “Considering that’s a minor spell.”

“Now you’re getting it. But together.”

“Find the people, find out what happened, and find who did it.”

“Find out how to stop them.”

For a long, tense moment, Regis was silent. “We shouldn’t involve the children. Gladio included.” Gladio thought he’d be offended, if he didn’t both see the logic in that and silently agree. He was only eighteen. He’d only barely finished his own magical training. He didn’t have his own circle, his own coven, only his family. He’d noticed the problem, but he was he felt powerless to help his father fix it. It was a large part of why they’d decided to wait until Halloween and go to Regis, anyway.

“Gladio,” his father called to him.

“Yeah, dad?”

“Do you think you can keep an eye on Noctis and Ignis for a couple hours?” Babysit. The word he was looking for was babysit. Even though neither of them were babies, they were definitely too new to this world and magic to be able to be left alone.

“I definitely can.” It would even be easy. Noctis would probably be happy to just look through the house, and Ignis would be happy to sulk. Maybe he’d even take them back to the center of town, show them (or, rather, show Noctis) the spots that people their age liked to go to. Noctis would probably like that.

“Great.”

They called Noctis back downstairs, and the boy came running, face perhaps looking a little too innocent. Yeah, he probably should have followed him up, but nothing had exploded, and Noctis wasn’t harmed. It was fine. For now.

Gladio and Noctis followed Regis and his dad out the backdoor where Ignis was leaning against the side of the house. Upon seeing them, Ignis pulled a strange, rectangular contraption out of his pocket and looked at it. “How?” he asked in that snooty tone of his. “How has it only been fifteen minutes?”

“I told you,” Gladio snorted at him in return, “time takes longer here.”

“It’s absurd.”

Gladio didn’t even deign to give that a reply, and he didn’t have to, as Regis began to talk instead. “Clarus and I are going to take a lap or two around town, and we’re going to leave you three to your own devices, provided you stick together and promise to behave.” Gladio was fairly certain the behaving part was more for Noctis than it was for Ignis or him. He didn’t think Ignis was capable of misbehaving, and Gladio . . . well, Gladio knew the area. He knew just how far he could go.

“Where should we meet you? Here?”

Regis smiled at Noctis, eyes shining with something Gladio could only call love. “No, why don’t you all meet us at the movie theater in a couple of hours?”

“There’s a movie theater?”

“Of course,” his dad put in. “We don’t live in the dark ages.”

“And I guarantee that there aren’t any movies in it you can see back home.”

“Sounds like wicked fun. Deal.”

“We should give them a set of headphones. You still have that whole designer set, don’t you?”

“I think so,” Regis mumbled, and Gladio stepped aside as Regis made his way back into the house. They were only waiting for a few moments before Regis stepped back outside carrying what was indeed an old but very colorful collectors set of headphones.

“Are those . . . shrunken heads?” Noctis asked, voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. Beside him, Ignis just made a vaguely disgusted noise.

“They do look like it, don’t they?” Regis said with a chuckle as he handed the blue one to Noctis. “But no, they work much more like walkie talkies. The main difference is,” he lifted the orange one up to his mouth, “they work with magic.”

 _‘They work with magic.’_ The headphone in Noctis’ hand echoed the words, and Noctis laughed.

“Cool.”

“Are cell phones useless here?” It was a question that Gladio couldn’t answer, because, frankly, what the fuck was a cell phone?

“I don’t know, Ignis,” Regis answered. “Let’s not find out.”

A purple headphone was handed to Ignis and a green one to Gladio. Regis kept the orange, and his dad kept the yellow one. The red one was left behind. “Contact us on the headphones if you need anything.”

They all walked down to the gates together, and that was where they split off into their two groups. Regis and his dad walked off in the direction of home. There was probably something there that they wanted to take with them. Gladio just hoped that mom and Iris were still out. Mom would probably be none too happy to see they were still pursuing what she considered to be nonsense.

He pushed that unpleasant thought from his mind and turned his attention to Noctis. “Do you wanna go into town? We can start at the candy shop.” He even knew they were having a special sale because it was Halloween. He bet Noctis loved candy. Ignis on the other hand . . . probably didn’t care.

“I’d like that, but--”

“But?”

“Can we go back up to the house for a bit? I wanna look at more stuff. Maybe learn something else.”

“If only you’d put this much effort into your schoolwork.” In response to Ignis’ words, Noctis stuck his tongue out at him, and honestly Gladio couldn’t blame him. Really? Did he really have to be such a killjoy?

He chose to ignore Ignis’ words entirely. “We’ve got time. Let’s go learn you something about magic.”

They all turned to head back inside the gate, when a voice from behind them, the very place they’d just been standing, stopped them. “I’d be super careful if I were you.” When Gladio turned back, he found Prompto standing in the spot they’d just been in. Cheap trick.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Ruby eyes stared up at his own without fear, which was stupid, because Gladio was pretty sure he could stomp the kid into the dirt, both physically and magically. The only thing stopping him was his father telling him to leave Prompto alone. He was, after all, the mayor’s son. As though being the mayor’s son forgave things like stealing and kicking dogs. “Things are changing around here, if you hadn’t noticed.”

They had. They had, and they were doing something about it right now, or, well, their fathers were. “What about it?” He lifted his chin, trying to intimidate Prompto, but Prompto only narrowed his eyes further in a challenge of his own.

“You just stay out of the way! If you do, you won’t get hurt. In fact-” with that Prompto turned his gaze away from Gladio and instead fixed his eyes on Noctis. “Why don’t you come with me. I can show you around town. You’ve never been, right? I’ll make it nice.” He offered his hand out for Noctis to take, but Noctis only stared at it with thinly veiled disgust.

“No thanks.” Without any further words, Noctis turned and marched right back through the gate. Gladio followed immediately, and after a couple moments, Ignis followed.

“You’ll see!” Prompto called after them “You’ll see I’m right!” Damn troublemaker.

Gladio tried to push Prompto from his mind as they came back up on the house. He should be excited. Noctis wanted to learn magic, and though he was sure Ignis wouldn’t want to stay, maybe Noctis and Regis would. His father hadn’t had any of his circle around in so long, and without any Scientias or Lucis-Caelums around, Gladio hadn’t felt secure choosing his. Ignis was a lost cause, but he hoped he and Noctis would be in the same circle in a few years.

Noctis reached the door first and simply pushed it open and ran back inside. Gladio chuckled. So eager. It was refreshing.

And then there was the scream.

Gladio rushed to the door but was then immediately shoved out of the way by Ignis. Gladio half fell against the doorframe, immobilized for the next few moments of time, which was all it took for the scene to completely unfold.

At the end of the room was a hooded man standing in the middle of a vortex portal, one arm wrapped around a book, the other around Noctis. Noctis, for his part, was not going willingly, and had likely been captured because he had gone straight for the book that he was still pulling on, even though he himself was now entangled and being dragged off toward the portal.

Ignis, after shoving him aside, had absently grabbed for an old dusty broom and had careened himself full force toward Noctis and the hooded man. “Release him this instant!” Ignis roared as he swung the broom’s handle at the man. The swing seemed to hold more force than any broom handle should, and the man stepped back, taking book and boy with him.

Ignis was not deterred, he swung again with another cry, clearly not afraid at all of getting in this man’s space. Not caring about the vortex or where it led. Perhaps it was because he didn’t believe this was real. It was somehow moving, that he’d jump in to protect Noctis, even in a scenario he didn’t think was real.

To block the second blow, the man had to release the book, but he did indeed strike back, just as the force of the broom handle also struck home. Ignis fell back, Noctis wrenched himself free, and the man all but fell into the portal. The portal closed just as Gladio was making it past the kitchen table.

“Specs!” Noctis dropped the book as well as dropped to his knees. “Are you okay?”

For an agonizing moment, Gladio thought Ignis had truly been hurt, but then Ignis shifted, his head shaking. “I’m fine, Noct.” Noctis’ face broke out in relief before he simply threw himself into his brother’s arms.

Ignis reacted slowly, but, bit by bit, he raised his arms up and wrapped them around Noctis in return. For a few moments, Gladio was left to watch the heartwarming scene before him as his own heart pounded away in his chest. Then Ignis looked up at him, and Gladio felt like his heart not only stopped hammering away, but it stopped completely. When he was struck, his glasses had been knocked from his face, and their absence left Gladio with no barrier between him and the vividly emerald eyes that glared up at him.

They were beautiful. They were dangerous.

The swinging of the broom, Gladio idly thought between being enchanted by their beauty. When Ignis swung the broom, he must have been direly wishing for the power to help Noctis. It must have been enough to reignite the dying embers of his magic. Maybe he didn’t realize it now, but Ignis would not be able to go back from this. Gladio would not want him to.

“I think,” Ignis’ harsh and commanding voice said, cutting into his thoughts, “that it is time for you to tell us exactly what is going on here.”

“Yeah,” Gladio mumbled, his face heating up in a flush when Ignis’ gaze upon him only intensified. “I suppose it is.”

They ended up with Ignis trying in vain to wash dishes and clear off the stove so he could make some sort of hot drink to soothe them. Gladio thought he’d be good at potions, if he ever put his mind to it. As it was, Gladio found the faces he made every time he discovered something new to be amusing . . . and cute. “Instant witches brew,” he heard him muse.

“Oh man, that packet looks ancient, but the stuff is really useful. Saves you a lot of time. Though, you know, some people say that from scratch is better.”

The look Ignis gave him in return lay somewhere between disgusted and disbelieving. “Naturally.” The packet was tossed into the trash, and it wasn’t long after that when Noctis called him back to the table.

“Just tell us while he works. He’s not gonna stop. He’s on a roll now.”

When Ignis turned the faucet on to find the water was red with rust, Gladio knew Noctis was right. He started with the disappearances, the way their very personalities had changed before they’d disappeared, and the way very few people seemed to notice or care at all. “I have a mother and a sister,” he told them, “and neither one has noticed anything odd. It’s like . . . they’re blind to it. Like everyone is blind to it.”

“Not you and Clarus, though?”

Gladio shook his head and was pleased to see that Ignis had given up on the water running clear and was now leaning back against the counter, bright eyes on him. It took a moment to escape from them and remember to talk. “I don’t think Dad really knew, at first, but he listened to me when I said it, and then he saw.”

“And now you’re trying to fix it. Together?”

“With our Dad.”

Gladio nodded. “Mixed magic is more powerful. Our dads together should be able to take care of it.”

“Let’s assume the people going missing and the man who just tried to take Noctis are the same problem.” Gladio and Noctis nodded their heads, because that seemed like a logical jump. Why wouldn’t they be the same problem? “Why does he need that book?”

“I don’t know,” Gladio answered honestly after trying to think about it. It was a Lucis-Caelum grimoire. Every family’s grimoire was different. He had no idea what might be inside.

“I think it’s time to go into town, then. Among people, where this hooded figure won’t show up.” Ignis started putting things into the sink, probably with the intent to wash them - later. Probably by hand. Ignis seemed to like things clean, and the Lucis-Caelum house was currently anything but. “And then meet our fathers at the movie theater. Perhaps they’ll have an answer, because there’s not much we currently know other than the man wants the book, and Prompto knows something’s wrong.” Ignis paused. “Perhaps it’s . . . children. Who notice that something’s wrong.”

“Or Prompto’s a part of it.”

“Or that,” Ignis conceded. “Either way, let’s get somewhere populated and find our fathers.”

Gladio had to admit, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was definitely the best plan they had.


	4. In Which Noctis Encounters a Lot of Danger

You never really think much about danger until you’re really deep in it. Noctis thought he’d been deep in danger before. Moments when he’d run in front of cars that were too close. Low grades that he’d been dreadfully afraid to bring home. That time when he’d stolen all of Ignis’ pens and he’d been sure Ignis had been going to fillet him.

Yeah, Noctis thought he’d been in danger before, and so when his dad and Clarus had mentioned danger, he’d brushed it off. Danger like that tended to happen to other people, and surely it wouldn’t be that bad even if it had. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the reality of what danger like this really felt like.

He couldn’t even make sense of the bulk of it. He remembered walking into the house and seeing the hooded man with the book, and he’d run for the book without thinking, and then the man had almost taken him, too. Who knew what would have happened to him if he’d gotten pulled through that portal. Death? Torture? Thinking about it definitely didn’t help. Ignis had been there, Ignis had saved him. It didn’t really make him feel better, because now he knew the danger could pop up anywhere at any time.

His brother was right. It would be better if they went to a place with more people. It would make them harder to snatch.

Noctis kept the book tight in his arms and waited while Gladio tried to convince Ignis to take a wand with him. In the end Ignis had rolled his eyes, but he’d also taken the wand and shoved it in a pocket. That meant Gladio had won the argument. It didn’t matter that he’d snapped “Not that I will use it!” in return. He’d still taken it, and Noctis could see by the grin on Gladio’s face that was enough.

Wand in pocket and his arms wrapped around the book the hooded man had wanted, they stepped out of the house again, and Noctis paused. “We should try to call our dads.” They’d all agreed that they needed to find them, but none of them had thought to call until then.

Gladio was first to pull out his headphone, but when he talked into it, while the message echoed over his and Ignis’ own headphones, there was no returning message. “Weird,” Gladio mumbled. “He should have been able to answer right away.”

“Let me try.” Ignis didn’t pull out his headphone but his cell phone instead. It was amusing to watch Gladio’s brow furrow as he tried to figure out what the rectangular object was. Surely he’d seen it earlier when Ignis had been obsessing over the time?

He decided to put Gladio out of his misery. “It’s our version of these.” Noctis nodded at Gladio’s headphones. “Except it does a lot more than just give messages.” He paused. “It’s not magic, though. There’s science.”

“It’s Earth technology, then?”

“Yeah.”

Gladio hummed. “It’s probably not gonna work here, then.” He was proven right a moment later when Noctis could faintly hear the “unable to connect” message he was all too familiar with.

“Is there any other way we can contact our fathers?”

“There are witches' glasses,” Gladio said with a shrug. “But I don’t have one yet. I’m not sure dad has his on him.”

Ignis sighed. “The plan stays the same, then. To town where there are people and hopefully to find them ourselves post haste.”

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed. “This isn’t good.”

“No,” Ignis whispered in return. “It’s not.”

They weren’t arguing over everything anymore, Noctis realized. Something between them had changed, and he thought that was good. If there could possibly be anything good about this whole situation. Noctis knew that Ignis didn’t really have many friends. Maybe one good thing that could come of it was that he finally got one. One that would last for life.

They began walking again. Noctis kept his head down. Everything was a little more ominous now that he’d almost been kidnapped or killed. He’d heard the sounds of children playing. Before it had been a sound he’d found joy in. Now it was something of terror.

Noctis wasn’t sure how far they walked before the sounds of shoes on gravel stopped, and Noctis looked up just before Ignis put a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at his face, his eyebrows were knit with so much worry they nearly met behind glasses. Even his eyes, which were so much more vivid than Noctis had ever remembered them, seemed to sparkle with worry.

When his lips moved though, it wasn’t Noctis he was speaking to. “Gladio,” Ignis began softly. “Is there any way we can take that taxi back into town?” He didn’t say it, but it was because of him, Noctis knew. He was scared. He’d feel safer in a confined space where something couldn’t jump out from behind the trees. He wasn’t stupid. He knew.

At least they weren’t making fun of him for being afraid.

Gladio summoned the taxi with just a whistle. It wasn’t like back home where you literally had to call them, app them, or wait until one went by that didn’t just ignore you. Its driver was the same mysterious boy as before. He couldn’t figure out what he was, or even if it was really a boy. He was just assuming boy. Asking would probably be rude.

“Where to?” The boy(?) asked when they all got into the back seat.

“The movie theater,” Gladio supplied. Noctis thought that was probably a good idea. He didn’t want to really wander. Maybe they’d try the headphones again when they got there.

“Got it!” their driver said, chipper as could be before they sped off.

“Hey,” Noctis felt Ignis put his hand on his shoulder again, and his half-numb brain bothered to wonder how long it had been since they’d touched each other in gentle ways like this even once a day, let alone three times in an hour. It had been a long time. “It’s going to be all right. We’re going to find our fathers. They’ll know what to do.”

Ignis’ thumb rubbed his shoulder gently, and Noctis sagged against him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Whatever for? It’s perfectly fine to be afraid after nearly being taken.”

“For stealing all your pens that one time. It was mean.”

The sound Ignis made was something like a surprised laugh that he choked off in the middle. “That was nearly a year ago, Noct.”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry.” He didn’t think he’d ever actually apologized for it. They’d had their spat, dad had made him give Ignis back his pens, Ignis had still been very upset, and that had been it. He’d been perfectly horrible to Ignis, on more than one occasion, and more horrible than Ignis had ever really been back. Ignis had still come to his aid when he’d really been in trouble.

“Now I know you’re ill,” Ignis commented dryly. Gladio snorted. Noctis smiled, despite himself. He felt a bit better.

The taxi dropped them off in front of the movie theater, and despite the reassurance that he didn’t need payment (Noctis wasn’t sure exactly how Halloweentown worked, but it didn’t seem to be capitalism), Ignis was leaning into the passenger’s side window, trying to get the driver to tell him what he wanted in return for services.

“Ignis . . . acts like an adult, doesn’t he?”

Noctis shrugged at Gladio’s observation. “Specs was never really a kid?” That wasn’t really true. Just like Gladio seemed to remember playing with Ignis when they were very small, Noctis had memories of being very close to his brother until the year Noctis had started kindergarten. They’d grown distant after that, and it had gotten worse after their mom had died.

As he watched Ignis pull away from the taxi window at last, Noctis thought it was time for that to change. They were going to be friends again.

“Why won’t they take money?”

“Vivi’s a he.” Gladio sounded far more amused than annoyed.

“Why won’t _he_ take money?” Ignis corrected.

“We don’t have money.”

“Then how do things work?!” Ignis sounded like he was one revelation from teetering off a cliff. “And don’t say magic!” Noctis could tell just by looking at Gladio’s face that he was very, very tempted to say magic.

“Everyone does what they love. We all trust each other to tend to each other’s needs. Partially . . . yeah, because witches and warlocks have magic. It would throw off a money system. Vivi loves to drive. The shop owners love what they sell. The cinema master loves to watch movies. We all trust that we’ll take care of each other.”

“Trust,” Ignis pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Noctis deeply suspected it wasn’t an answer that was sitting in his gut any better than just ‘magic.’ “Sounds fake, but okay.”

“Maybe it does sound fake, but it’s true. It’s also part of why what’s going on is so bad. Maybe in your world, a few people going missing isn’t a big deal as a whole, but here it could lead to a destruction of trust. It could take down the whole system.”

Ignis sighed. One big breath in. One big breath out. “I have no choice but to go along with that theory.”

“It’s truth,” Gladio told him. His voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as it had been before, and Ignis wasn’t really arguing. Yep. Friends. They’d bonded now. It made Noctis smile.

“Can we go in?”

“Yeah.” Gladio lightly nudged Noctis’ shoulder with an elbow. “Let’s go get tickets.”

They approached the box office only to find that there was no ticketmaster behind it. Gladio rang the bell and called inside, but no one came. “Are they on break?”

“I doubt it.” Gladio rang the bell again. Still no one came to greet them. “There definitely should be someone here.”

“So something’s wrong.”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t we just go in?” suggested Ignis, breaker of exactly zero rules in his entire life. “If the ticketmaster finds us after, we’ll apologize. Explain.” Noctis supposed it wasn’t like they were really here to watch a movie anyway. They were here to hopefully find their fathers. Though Noctis had to admit he wouldn’t mind watching a movie if they had to wait, either.

“I’m sure it’d be fine if we explained,” Gladio agreed.

That was that. They made their way to the red and golden doors. It wasn’t locked. In fact, the door felt light in Noctis’ hands as he pulled it open. It was as though the movie theater was welcoming them inside. Once the door closed behind them, that feeling of welcome wore off and instead Noctis could only feel unsettled. The why wasn’t clear to him. It wasn’t dark or anything. It looked like a normal theater.

It was Ignis who told him what was wrong. “It’s quiet.” And yeah. Now that Ignis had said the words, the silence around them was suffocating. Movie theaters weren’t quiet places. There should be music playing, the sounds of popcorn popping, and the more distant sounds of a movie playing for an audience beyond closed doors.

That was exactly what it was. It was too quiet. There was no one here at all.

“What should we do?” It was kind of telling, how both he and Gladio turned to Ignis for the answer. Ignis was the smart one. Ignis was the mature one. He’d have the answer.

“We should look around and see if we can’t find someone. Perhaps they’re locked up.”

“Should we split up?”

Ignis leveled Gladio with a look. “I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt here, and say that there’s no such thing as horror movies in this realm.”

“Yeah, those definitely aren’t a thing here. I don’t even know what those are.”

“Color me not surprised,” Ignis sighed. “No. No splitting up. We’ll search together.”

They did. They looked behind the concessions stand, they looked in the bathrooms, and they looked in two of the three showing rooms. Nothing. Not a single thing was out of place except that they were quiet and empty. It was eerie but not scary. It was only when they started approaching the third showing room that Noctis paused. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

“I think I hear . . . something.” He wasn’t sure what, but it wasn’t silence. He pressed his ear to the door crack, and yeah, it was definitely something. It sounded like wind during a storm, but without the rain. Just wind. It was a lot of wind. “I’m gonna go inside. You guys should stay here.”

“What did I say about splitting up?”

“Yeah, but what if it’s really dangerous? What if it just nabs us all and everyone’s doomed? I’m not going in blind. I know it might be bad. So do you.”

Ignis took in a great deep breath and let out a sigh. Noctis knew he’d made his point. He knew Ignis was taking it as a good point. “We’re going to keep an eye on it. Do be careful, Noct.”

“Yeah, mom. I will.”

Noctis sat the book aside before he pulled the door open and darted inside. Almost immediately, the wind slapped him in the face. He’d definitely been right about that. Windy. Very windy. It was a battle to keep his eyes open and look into the rest of the theater and what he could see wasn’t all that much. It was dark, as theaters tended to be during movies.

The screen was the only bright thing in the place, set in a black and white vortex with the man in the hood standing at its center. Noctis knew that was where the wind came from. Slowly, it began to pull him down the aisle. Slowly toward the screen.

The man laughed, and that was when Noctis recognized him fully. Ardyn. The town’s mayor was behind everything. Beneath the terror that began to overtake him, Noctis dully thought that he could not wait to tell Ignis that he’d been right.

He began to slide faster, and he reached out and grabbed for an armrest. His hand met an arm, and when he looked he could just barely make out his father’s blank face in the dim light. “Dad!”

“He can’t hear you, Noctis. None of them can.”

None of them? Noctis held onto his father’s arm as he looked. Next to him was Clarus, his face equally blank, practically dead. Every chair he looked at held a person, human looking or not. This was where they’d all gone, Noctis realized. They’d come down into this theater that sucked them empty of . . . life? Their souls?

“Don’t worry. Soon you will join them, and you will know no pain.”

Noctis cried out. He screamed, holding onto his father’s cold arm with every bit of fight he had in him.

And then Gladio was there. Gladio pulled, and Noctis pushed. Ardyn laughed.

Suddenly, he was on the carpet in the light of the concessions room. Ignis’ shrill voice filled his ears. “Are you all right?!”

Never had Noctis thought Ignis’ voice would be a comforting thing. It was. He never wanted to hear the wind again. “I’m okay. I think.”

“Well,” Gladio said more softly, more calmly than Noctis thought he should. There had been nothing calm about that. There was nothing to be calm about! “We have an answer. The man in the hood is Ardyn.”

“The mayor?”

“I told you,” Noctis said, gleaning the only joy out of this that he possibly could. “I told you I didn’t like him.”

“Yes, all right,” Ignis chided. “I get it. But. I don’t understand why? Or what?”

“Dad. Both of our dads. They were in there. They’re cold, like death. There are a lot of people in there. Maybe everyone that’s missing, even.”

They were silent for a minute. He knew Ignis and Gladio were processing that. He was still processing it, but he wasn’t the smart one. He could only hope that with Ignis being smart and Gladio knowing Halloweentown, they could figure it out together.

“He’s gotta be gathering power for something. That vortex in there. It probably sucks the souls of anyone who stands in it too long. Souls are really powerful. It’s evil to take one, but still. You know. Powerful.”

“But why? What could he want so much power for? It already seems like witches and warlocks can do whatever they like.”

“I don’t know,” Gladio admitted softly. “But we gotta find out. We gotta stop it.”

Ignis sighed. He sounded as tired as Noctis felt. “Well, we’re not going to find it in here. Let’s get going.” Ignis helped him up. Noctis felt shaky. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” his brother suggested softly. “That would probably help all of us.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Noctis shook even more as he leaned down to take the book back. This day was going to haunt him for a long time, and he had a feeling it wasn’t even close to over yet.

They made their way out of the movie theater back into a public street with plenty of people. Back to safety. Noctis breathed again. He heard a meow. With his first safe breath still in his lungs, he looked down to see a cat: small, white, dainty, and fluffy.

The cat meowed at him again, revealing a pink tongue inside its mouth. Noctis could not resist. He leaned down to pet it. Blue eyes closed in happiness and a rumbling purr reached his ears. This went on for perhaps ten little pets before the cat reached out and pulled at his sleeve. The purr stopped instantly, and the cat pulled so hard it almost toppled him over.

When Noctis did nothing but stare, the cat released him, and then meowed at him again, very loudly. “Does it want us to feed it?” Ignis asked behind him.

“Nah,” Gladio replied. “It wants us to follow.”

“Is that wise?”

“Dunno,” Gladio admitted. “Animals don’t usually serve evil though. They’re too smart. They know it’ll come back to bite them.”

They followed the cat. It led them through the square, past the Jack o’Lantern statue and down past a building that Noctis would have called an inn straight out of a high fantasy novel. Noctis supposed they were _in_ a high fantasy novel.

The cat stopped just short of heading down a dark alleyway, and to Noctis’ shock, the cat shifted and became a dog. A large, white, fluffy dog who panted at them happily as Prompto stepped out from the alley shadows.

There was something different about Prompto then. It took Noctis a second to put his finger on it. He’d only seen Prompto twice, but both times he’d had blood red eyes. Those eyes were gone, replaced with a blue as clear and bright as the ocean on a summer’s day.

“Let’s go,” Gladio said, his hand gripping Noctis’ shoulder. “He’s working for his father.”

“No,” Noctis said quickly, shrugging the hand off. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

In front of him, Prompto looked ready to cry. His big blue eyes looked ready to overflow with tears. “I knew you’d listen. Thank you.” He took in one great, shuddering breath. “Thank you. Here.” He jerked around quickly, reaching into a small bag at his side. Out of it came a small bottle with what looked like living fog inside.

He urged Noctis to take it. When he did the bottle was warm to the touch. The fog seemed to be drawn to the spots where his fingers touched the glass. “It’s your father. I’m sorry! I could only get one without him noticing, but please. Please.” Another deep, bracing breath. “I need your help.”

“To do what?” Gladio asked, his voice dripping skepticism.

“I need to stop my father - Ardyn. I can’t do it alone.”


	5. In Which Prompto is Able to be Himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I'm here to joyously remind you that this chapter has accompanying art by the wonderful Tyger/Mikey, who can be found [here!](https://www.instagram.com/tyger_prints/)
> 
> I really cannot tell you how nice it was to work with them, and how excited I am to have their art in this chapter. <3 Such a joy, and their style is so whimsical. I'm sure you'll love it too. <33333
> 
> Please enjoy!

Ardyn was not Prompto’s father.

He’d grown up in Ardyn’s care. He’d grown up calling him father, but Prompto had always known it was fake. Even if they’d looked anything alike, which they didn’t, Ardyn made sure that he knew he wasn’t really his son.

Where Prompto came from exactly he didn’t know. He would probably never know for certain, but Ardyn told him that he had no mother at all, and really his father was more of a creator. His father had been a warlock seeking immortality, as though witches didn’t live long enough as it was. He’d been seeking to make a shell, a doll, something he could transfer himself over to when he grew too old for comfort. Unfortunately, not only had the project killed him, but his doll had grown a soul of its own.

“At least, I think that’s what happened. Perhaps he was successful. Perhaps you are Verstael, and you just can’t remember.” Ardyn had shrugged at him. “Either way, you’re lucky I came along. You’re lucky I have such a kind soul myself.”

Prompto did not like to think he was Verstael. Prompto doubly did not like to think that Ardyn was kind. Kind people did things for others and not expect anything in return. Ardyn expected a lot in return, not just from Prompto, but from anyone Ardyn laid his hands on in “kindness.”

He fooled a lot of people, though. When Prompto was seven, Ardyn started running for mayor. He didn’t get it the first time. Those had been a very hard four years for Prompto. Second time around, though, he’d finally gathered enough favors and favor to get the title. He’d held it ever since.

Prompto knew that mayor was just the start. Mayor of inner Halloweentown was just a stepping stone in the river that was Ardyn’s plan to take over . . . everything. The realm of Halloweentown was a small thing, created barely a thousand years ago. Everyone knew that for fact because there were still people around from back then, Ardyn included. Witches and warlocks lived for amazingly long amounts of time, and Ardyn was the last remaining member of the Lucis-Caelum clan that remembered before.

The problem, Prompto eventually figured out, was that when Halloweentown was created, Ardyn had expected to be its king. The Lucis-Caelum clan had always been the strongest witch and warlock family. It was only natural.

He’d expected to be king, and instead the citizens of Halloweentown had decided on democracy. Now, Halloweentown wasn’t enough. Ardyn wanted the world they’d left behind, too. To do that, Ardyn needed a lot of power. He needed a lot more power than he himself and a puppet-son could provide. He needed souls. He needed a lot of them. The problem was that Halloweentown was protected by its city center. The light in the Jack o’Lantern kept the citizens of their world safe from evil. If Ardyn was to carry out his plan, it had to go.

It was a daily process. Part of the mayor’s job was to give thanks to the figure every morning. Every morning Ardyn did just that, as well as stealing a little of its light. It had been almost a year since the light had finally gone out.

It had been almost a year since Ardyn had hidden his blue eyes and had changed them red. “And you will not change them back,” he’d threatened. “The town must think of you as a problem. It will be distracting. Even you can do that.”

It was saddening to Prompto that no one even seemed to realize that his eyes had not always been red. It was sad that they took whatever enchantment had been placed on that color change at face value. He was a troublemaker now. He loitered annoyingly, he said mean things, he chased skirts. Nothing truly terrible was allowed because the town was supposed to be safe, but it was annoying and distracting enough while Ardyn started phase two.

Phase two was stealing souls to amass power. Like stealing the light of the Jack o’Lantern, it was going to be a long process. Two months in and there were five people missing. Five good people. Prompto couldn’t stand by and watch anymore.

The problem was that he couldn’t do it by himself. He knew the plan. He knew the plan involved gathering one hundred souls before Ardyn could move onto phase three of creating his own light for the Jack o’Lantern, a light that would turn the whole of Halloweentown into his army. He knew Ardyn needed a book, an incantation, and a lantern to hold his enchantment in. The power to their whole world would be in his grasp if he could get those things.

He was delayed only by two things. One was that the branch of the Lucis-Caelum clan that held the book had been out of town for decades. The other was that the Scientia family, who held the lantern, was out of reach as well. He’d never said it directly to Prompto, but Ardyn muttered to himself more and more these days, and Prompto had put the story together.

The Scientia’s were a small but powerful clan. When Prompto had been very young, Ardyn had attacked them in an attempt to claim the lantern. He’d killed the family off, save for a small child who had disappeared afterward, but had failed in grabbing the lantern. Without an heir to its halls, the house would never open again.

Similarly, the Lucis Caelum home would not reopen until his kin returned. Ardyn was not close enough kin. It maddened him. It wouldn’t hold him off forever. Eventually, he’d get enough power and stop caring about being subtle. Eventually he’d just break in and take them. Prompto had to stop him before that happened, but how?

He could not turn to the Amicitias. They didn’t believe or like him in any way, and there weren’t many other families of significant power that he could turn to. Really, it was just the Nox-Fleurets.

Ravus wouldn’t even look at him in disgust, but Lunafreya - Luna . . . for the first time since Ardyn had changed his eyes, someone looked at him and believed him. She had a smile like hope, and she’d listened to his story with a nod of her beautiful head at the end of every sentence. When he’d finished, she’d taken his hands in hers. “Thank you for telling me about this, Prompto. I will look into it myself. You’re right. This cannot be allowed to go on.”

Luna was known for her two dogs, Pryna and Umbra. Unfortunately, at the end of her search, Pryna was the only thing that returned. Prompto knew Luna’s soul had been taken and with it the only hope he’d had of defeating Ardyn.

Pryna would not come home with him, which made sense considering that Ardyn and his hoard of souls were there, but when he left the house, she inevitably appeared by his side. He knew it was only because she wanted his help getting Luna and Umbra back, but it still made things a little less lonely. Even if having her by his side started a new accusation.

“What did you do to that dog?!”

“I saw him! He kicked her!”

“Do you have no shame?!”

“Why couldn’t you be more like your father?!”

“I will never be anything like him!” It only fueled their harsh words, but Prompto knew it to be true. Perhaps he was just a doll who mimicked a warlock’s soul. Perhaps he had the soul of a dead warlock in him. It didn’t matter. He could never be like Ardyn. Never.

When Halloween rolled around, Ardyn had ninety-eight of his one hundred souls. Time was running out. With one hundred souls, he’d be able to do anything he wanted, including break into closed homes and skip on over to the human world any time he wanted. He had to be stopped, but how?

Salvation came in the form of surprise visitors. People who lived in Halloweentown often went into the mortal realm on Halloween, when the portal was fully open. They almost always came back, though sometimes stragglers found themselves stuck among the humans for a year. It was new faces coming to visit them that was odd. He knew the Amicitias they came with, of course. They’d just gone out for a visit, but while Ardyn knew Regis, the two other faces were completely new.

Ignis and . . . Noctis.

Prompto wouldn’t lie. Noctis was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. There was just something about him that called to him. This was the answer to his problems. They could help. He just knew it in his blood and bones. Unfortunately, Ardyn knew that this was the solution to his problems, too.

“So that’s where the Scientia child went,” he muttered to himself as he paced their front room, surrounded by stolen souls. “But he’s stupid and barely aware. Will he even go to his ancestral home?” Ardyn had rounded on him. “You.”

“Yes?”

“Get close to them. Make them trust you. Distract them. I don’t care how. Do whatever. Just make sure Scientia goes home.”

“And I can do whatever I need to do to make that happen?”

“Yes, whatever you want.”

Prompto had been planning to do whatever anyway, but now if Ardyn asked, he had an excuse. It would buy him time. “Great. You got it.”

His first attempt didn’t go very well. Of course not. Gladiolus Amicitia was still there, hovering, and he had forgotten to take the enchantment off his eyes. It was to be a blessing in disguise, though, as he’d later find out. It had prevented Ardyn from stealing the book he needed. To get closer now, though, he’d need a grand gesture.

The enchantment coming off his eyes for one thing, of course, but he’d need something else. Something to show them he meant it.

He’d been examining his eyes, making sure none of the blood ruby enchantment remained, when he heard the telltale pop in the front room. Souls. Two of them. With this, Ardyn would have all one hundred he needed. When he ghosted his fingers over them he could tell that they were Clarus Amicitia and Regis Lucis-Caelum.

He grabbed a potion bottle and he wished. He wished hard for the soul to go inside. It did. He heaved a sigh in relief. Prompto not only had his grand gesture, but Ardyn was down to only ninety-nine souls, and he didn’t know it. It wasn’t much. It was going to have to be enough.

Now he had to find Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus again.

Pryna offered to help. It wasn’t that she could speak or that he could understand her, not really, but she just sort did . . . her thing, and he ended up in the right place at the right time for her. Right place right time ended up being in an alleyway near town center.

Gladiolus didn’t believe him, of course not, but without the enchantment, Noctis was willing to listen. The first person since Luna. Prompto nearly broke down in tears right there. He’d known Noctis was special. He’d known. With Noctis on board, Ignis was willing to listen, too, and Gladiolus reluctantly stayed.

He ran them through it - his whole life, top to bottom. It took too long, but it was needed. He needed them all to be on the same page. That was the fastest way from point A to B.

“So, technically,” Gladiolus said at the end of his speech, “you’re not really even a warlock.”

“That? That’s your first takeaway from this?!” Prompto almost screeched, hands pressing into his face.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. “I just didn’t know it was something you could fake.”

“I walk like a warlock, I look like a warlock, and I cast magic like a warlock. Let’s just say I’m a warlock, okay?!”

“Sure.” Gladiolus shrugged his shoulders. Prompto wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that he was pretty sure Gladiolus wasn’t believing that or the fact that she didn’t think he was actually trying to be insulting.

Thankfully, Ignis was ready to move on. “Assuming that every word of what you’ve told us is true--”

“It is.”

“What would be the next step?”

“Well.” Prompto took a deep, sobering breath. “You’ve already got the book with you. That’s great. So technically, next step would be getting the lantern.”

“And that’s at the Scientia house.”

“Yeah. But first we should do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I’m supposed to be distracting you. Gaining your trust, but it’d be a little . . . obvious, I guess, if I just took you straight from an alleyway to Scientia manor. We should do something else first. Something fun.”

It surprised Prompto that Gladiolus was the one who gave him an answer. “Earlier, I was gonna take them to the candy shop. They’re having a sale, and it’s Halloween.”

“I thought you said this world doesn’t run on money,” Ignis interjected.

“It doesn’t.”

“Then how can a candy shop be having a sale?!” Gladio just shrugged his shoulders at Ignis. Ignis looked like he wanted to scream. Prompto was pretty sure it was time to move on.

“Candy shop, then?”

“Yeah!” Noctis’ stormy eyes lit up with excitement. “Lead the way!”

They ended up running, shrieking like smaller children than they actually were, and for a moment, just a moment, Prompto forgot that if they didn’t succeed Ardyn would take over the world and there would be no joy anymore. As he held the door open for Noctis, whose face was flushed from running, his smile taking up his whole face, Prompto found himself wanting to keep the world just as it was . . . just for Noctis.

Prompto hadn’t been in Miss Luciano’s Candy Emporium very often, especially not in the last year or so, but it was exactly as he remembered. Colorful, filled with barrels among barrels of freshly made candy and floating bubbles that Prompto knew if he reached out and popped with his tongue would taste sweet and fruity.

None of it was magic, not really, but Prompto could tell that Noctis was enchanted all the same. “What’s the price of candy today?” he asked the troll behind the counter. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was Miss Luciano herself, dressed up in her finest. She was even wearing lipstick that highlighted her teeth. Trolls were big on their teeth.

For a second, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, but then she saw his eyes. She smiled, all of her teeth on display. Prompto could have cried all over again. He was never going back to the ruby. Never. Not even if Ardyn succeeded.

“For warlocks like you? One flower, of your choosing. My vase is woefully empty.” To prove her point she reached out and tapped one purple finger against said vase. It was indeed very empty. One flower? Prompto could do way better than that--

“Can I help?” came Noctis’ voice beside him.

“Sure!”

“Just. I’ve never done magic before. Gladio says it’s like wishing though.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed with a nod. “Magic is like wishing.” Ardyn had always described it as demanding, but Prompto approved of using a different word, a word that sounded less like dominion and more like a request. “You wanna do this with me?”

He held out his hands, and Noctis stared at them for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah!” He had to set his book down, but then he slid their hands together, fingers intertwined. Noctis’ hands were so warm. Prompto never wanted to let them go.

He pulled them closer together, close enough that he could lean forward and whisper into Noctis’ ear. “Miss Luciano’s asked for a single flower, but I want to give her a bouquet. Bright and colorful, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Just keep that idea in your mind. Wish for it. Wish that it was in her vase, and then just decide it can be, and release the idea. I’ll be doing the same.”

“Got it.”

Prompto would have been able to cast that spell by himself easily, but linked up to Noctis, it took a little longer for him to feel the release that he knew was magic. Yet when he looked up, he knew that linking them had been a worthwhile effort.

The bouquet in the vase was easily the biggest, brightest, and most beautiful bunch of flowers that Prompto had ever seen. It was far beyond what he’d been imagining, and when he looked at Noctis’ face, he knew it was beyond what he’d imagined too. Together. Together they’d made something better than either of them could make alone. It felt beautiful.

The way that Miss. Luciano reached out and touched the flowers reverently made Prompto know they’d done something good. They’d done something really good. Together. He never wanted to do anything alone again. “You boys can take the entire shop if you like.”

They wouldn’t. “Thanks.”

For a minute, he watched Noctis look at each display of candy individually, amused at how he seemed determined to try each and every kind before something else distracted him.

“Gladio, stop that!” Ignis’ voice reached him in a harsh whisper that sounded more amused than annoyed despite the intensity of the words.

Prompto craned his neck back and around to look. Ignis and Gladio were standing toward the window display, and it looked like Gladio kept trying to get Ignis to try a piece of watermelon shaped candy.

“I don’t need it!” he hissed at him, his words all bark and no bite, and oh. Prompto grinned a little wider to himself. If Gladiolus’ face was anything to go by, Prompto wasn’t the only who had found himself entranced by the new faces in town. He looked so . . . soft. So fond of the other boy. Prompto, personally, had the opinion that Ignis would eat him if he tried anything like that, but so far, Ignis just seemed to be waving him off rather than truly biting his head off. Perhaps the fondness was mutual.

“No one ever needs candy, Ignis. Come on.”

Prompto heard more than saw Gladio unwrapping the piece of candy and moved his position down a few barrels just in time to watch Gladio take the unwrapped candy and press it against Ignis’ lips in a motion that Prompto would honestly call insanely intimate. “Try it? Please?”

For his part, Ignis did not look at all impressed with this, yet he opened his mouth and let Gladio put the candy on his tongue anyway. Gladio smiled wide. Prompto did the same. “How does it taste?” he asked as Ignis closed his mouth again.

“It tastes like watermelon candy,” Ignis commented dryly out of the corner of his mouth. For a moment, Prompto thought Gladio might lean forward to try and kiss him to try and taste the candy on his lips for himself, but then Ignis turned away.

Gladio couldn’t see it, but Prompto saw the smile. Yeah, the fondness was mutual. He also didn’t miss how Gladio took a few more watermelon candies. He popped one of them in his own mouth, and Prompto didn’t think he’d been wrong. He’d wanted to kiss the taste off Ignis’ lips.

“Oh! Wow!” Prompto’s eye was drawn away again by Noctis’ laugh. (It was like music. He could listen to it all day.) Noctis had decided to try an unknown candy for himself. He stood a few feet away with one hand up in front of his lips.

“What’s it taste like?” Prompto asked.

“Like a thunderstorm!” Noctis said in awe. “It feels like one too. Like pop rocks, but . . . more intense.”

“Do you like it?” Came Miss Luciano’s voice from the counter. “It’s my newest creation. Is it good? Or too much?”

“It’s perfect,” said Noctis. All in all, Prompto thought this moment in time was perfect. If only he could have captured it and kept it forever. He couldn’t, though. They had other things to do. Other, less fun, more serious things.

Once they stepped outside of the shop, Ignis pulled a rectangle from his pocket and looked at it. “How much time do we have?”

Ignis shook his head as he put it back away. “It still hasn’t even been an hour.”

“So we’ve got time.”

“For now.” For now was right. It wouldn’t last forever. Noctis and Ignis may not have been used to time flowing so slowly, but if they wanted to go home, three hours was still three hours. “Onward toward . . . the Scientia manor then?”

“Yeah. Do you know the way?”

“I do,” said Gladio quickly. “I’ll lead us.”

“Do we wanna take the taxi?”

“Nah. It’s probably best to not draw attention to where we’re going.”

Walking meant it took longer, but the walk was pretty, and it was nice, because he spent it talking with Noctis about his home. There they had things like public school below a university level, and he tried to explain money, which sounded very odd and not like something Prompto would want to deal with.

He explained seasons, sports, and books, and everything was just so different. With every word, Prompto thought that someday he’d like to visit, but perhaps only if he were with Noctis. Every so often, Ignis would add something or another to the conversation, but it was never anything positive - not like Noctis’ description. They were such different people.

All conversation came to a close when they came to the Scientia gates, though. The wrought iron was twisted beautifully, in a deeply wild way that seemed in utter contrast with Ignis’ own nature. Ignis seemed like such an orderly person. The gates to his home and the overgrown yard beyond were not his. They were not him. Yet they were. They had to be, if they were going to get the lantern.

“It’s locked,” Ignis said as he tugged at the gate.

“That’s because you gotta unlock it,” Gladio snorted, amused.

“With magic, I assume.”

“Yeah. Magic.”

“Which I don’t know how to use.”

“Just wish. You’re the rightful heir to the land. Wish for it to open for you. It will.”

“Sure it will.”

“It will.”

Ignis huffed, as he often did, it seemed. He huffed, but he then closed his eyes and reached out for the gate again. Moments passed. Nothing happened. Gladio reached out to put his hand on Ignis’ back. He reached out to give support, but that was a mistake. Ignis’ eyes opened, and his head whirled around. “I don’t need help!” he snapped.

Gladio lifted his hands up and stepped back. No. Prompto thought, Ignis didn’t seem like the type who liked to be helped. Ignis was probably the type who would do everything alone if he could. People who were left alone a lot were like that, he thought. Or they were like him, desperate for every bit of help they could get.

It took too long for Prompto to hear the click of the lock. Too long for the gate to open with a creaking lurch. It had taken too long, but they were in. Now they just had to get the lantern before Ardyn figured out that they were there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to view the art separate of the chapter, [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740277807841804498/769902779556036638/unknown.png) is a link to click! <3


	6. In Which Gladio Cannot Ease Someone's Suffering

Gladio never thought he’d be at the Scientia estate again.

It had been locked and sealed since he’d been a young boy. According to his father, the Scientia clan had always been small. When Halloweentown had formed, most of their bloodline had chosen to stay. The family enjoyed academia, and what was there to really learn about a dimension they created themselves? In Halloweentown proper, there had only ever been two or three members at a time, and at least one of them always by marriage.

He’d only been five or six when the attack on the manor had happened. At the time, there’d only been three Scientias: Ignis and his parents. His parents had died, and Ignis had been shipped off to the other world. In theory, Gladio thought the plan had been to find a distant uncle, but that had clearly never happened. Ignis had gone to stay with the Lucis-Caelums, and the manor had shut itself off to anyone else, waiting for its heir to return.

The Lucis-Caelum estate had been shut off, too, but it was different from the tangled mess that lay before them now. The Lucis-Caelum estate had not seen bloodshed. It had just been left for a new home, and like a faithful dog, it had been waiting. Said dog may have chewed up a few pillows, made a mess, but it was truly happy to see the return of its master and friends.

Ignis’ home was only opening to Ignis because it had no choice. They were only safe because Ignis was here. It had the feel of an abandoned, half drowned cat. Wild, angry, ready to lash out. There was nothing warm or welcoming about it. It wanted them to leave. It was sad, because he remembered the well kept lawns, the tidy gardens, and the loving laughter that had been inside the home as a child. The curling thorns and winding vines reminded him much of Ignis himself. Hurt. Desperate. Closed off.

The walk to the front door seemed to take forever, a single continuous warning to turn back or else. Yet, when they got there and Ignis pulled at the handle, the door opened easily to him.

Inside the Lucis-Caelum home, it had been a mess. Cobwebs, dust, dishes, half finished projects, and impulse buys had been the minimum of the mess that they’d found within. Here, there were cobwebs and dust, showing the amount of time gone, but the rest of it remained spotless, untouched. Gladio was sure that in the attack that had killed his parents (a tragedy that should have never happened under the protection the town was supposed to have), the house had been trashed. It must have fixed itself.

Wordlessly, they walked into the front parlor where all was dark except for a small patch of twilight sun that radiated through a pair of curtains. It was Ignis who marched over to the windows and threw the curtains open, unleashing not only sunlight but a cloud of dust that made Ignis cough.

When the cloud cleared, the light made the room bright, yet empty and faded except for one thing: a portrait that hung over a long neglected fireplace. If Gladio could have steered Ignis away from it, he would have. It was a portrait of his family. His parents, a delicate looking woman with bright blue eyes, blond hair, and dimples in her cheeks leaning against a man who had all of Ignis’ coloring but none of his fine boned stature. Between them was a young child who had a smile brighter than both of them. Ignis.

It was a portrait or a time long gone, and as far as Gladio was concerned, all three of the people in it were dead. Ignis was not that boy. He never would be again.

“Ignis,” he said, turning his head back toward him. He could never forget the expression he found. He’d never seen anyone’s face scream _‘kill me’_ quite so loudly. “Ignis--”

“No.” Ignis shut him down with just a word. It hurt, but not as much as Ignis did. He seemed ready to shatter. “Let’s get looking.”

Just like at the movie theater, they weren’t allowed to truly split up, but they did search each room together. The four of them spread out to the four corners of the room and eventually met back up at the middle, always empty handed. There were a lot of things to be found, but none of them were lanterns that could protect their realm.

“What do we do?” Gladio heard Noctis ask Prompto. “If we can’t find it?”

“I don’t know,” Prompto whispered back, his voice the height of worry and panic. “I guess . . . Ardyn won’t be able to complete his plan either, but we can’t stop him.”

“A stalemate.”

“Yeah, but for how long? And what kind of damage could he do even without it?”

Gladio was sorry he’d ever doubted Prompto. The boy radiated sincerity now that the color of his eyes had changed. It was jarring how quickly his opinion had changed. It was terrifying how much just that color had influenced him. He would make it up to him, someday, not just for the way he’d treated him, but for the help he was now giving them. Someday.

“You’re sure it’s here somewhere?” Ignis asked, his voice as rigid as a metal pole.

“Yeah. Ardyn’s sure of it, so I’m sure.”

“Then we can’t give up,” Ignis said, somehow both firm yet exhausted. “Let’s start again in the parlor.”

That’s where they went, with Ignis leading the way, because that was the only way it felt safe in the house. Gladio watched his hands on the banister, holding it as though he’d always been walking up and down these stairs. Like he belonged here. He did belong here. Perhaps someday he could be convinced to move back. Perhaps someday the lawns would be cared for again. Perhaps someday Ignis would have children to make the halls feel warm and loved again. Someday was not today.

Today Ignis was in pain, and Gladio didn’t know how to help him.

A sound reached their ears when they got back to the parlor. Gladio knew they all heard it, because they all stopped in their tracks, listening. Was it Ardyn?

_“Ignis.”_

There it was again, this time clear as day, yet soft and muffled. It wasn’t Ardyn. That was a woman’s voice. They looked around, yet there was no one there.

_“Iggy, darling. Look up.”_

They all looked up. Looking up meant their eyes finding the family portrait again. It had moved. Little Ignis and his father had moved to the right side of the frame, their forms pressed against it as firmly as they could. It was his mother’s visage that called to them, her hands pressed against the invisible barrier between them.

_“Here. Your legacy is here.”_

Ignis sighed, clearly resigned to a fate he did not want. “I’ll need something to help me up.”

Gladio considered having him stand on his shoulders, but in the end, they got a stool from the kitchen, and Noctis held it steady while Ignis stood atop it. Gladio wished it were him holding onto it, if only it would spare him the heartbreak of watching Ignis go through this.

Nothing was said, but as Ignis inspected the edges of the painting, his mother and father both put their hands against the frame as close to his hands as they could get. They smiled to do so, but their faces betrayed their sadness. They were happy their son was here, yet devastated that they could not touch him.

With a soft click, the portrait swung away from the wall, almost knocking Ignis off the stool. Behind the portrait was an alcove. Ignis reached into it and emerged with two items in his hands. One item was the Scientia grimoire. The other item was the lantern.

Both items were handed down to Prompto, and knowing proper etiquette, Prompto immediately put the grimoire down on the nearest table. It wasn’t his to touch. It wasn’t his to know.

Ignis shut the portrait again and lowered himself down from the stool without another glance up. Gladio watched, though. He watched as the family rearranged themselves back into their proper spots and went still again now that their job was done. They’d probably never talk to Ignis again, and Gladio didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. How could he know when all he saw when he looked at Ignis face was pain?

Gladio wished he could help him. He wished he could hold him. He wished he could tell him it would be all right. How could he do any of that when Ignis would not even let him say he was sorry?

He dug in his pocket and pulled out another one of the candies he’d taken from the shop. Despite his bland response, he’d seemed to have liked it. “Here,” he offered it now, not in a silly failed romantic gesture, but as it was, whole, a little sweet among the bitter.

Ignis looked at it, and then glared at him. “I neither need or want your pity, Gladio.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Yes,” Ignis growled at him. “It is.”

Ignis turned away from him then and gave his attention to Prompto. “What’s next?”

“Next we gotta make the potion to fill the lantern. Get the incantation to activate it.”

“Let me guess,” Gladio put in. “The incantation is at my home.”

Prompto nodded his head. “And it’s probably the safest place to make the potion.”

“All right,” Gladio said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

The walk to his home was even quieter and more uncomfortable than the one to Ignis’. Gladio thought that the memory of the portrait haunted them all a little. It left them with a lingering sense of what was coming.

At his house, there was no need to unlock anything. He and his family had lived here all his life. Its grounds were trim and neat, its walkway whole and uncracked. It made sure that all who visited knew that a happy family lived here, whole and undivided. If his father’s soul remained locked away for long though, that would start to change.

What a sobering thought.

He stuck in his head inside the front door and called out into the house. When no reply came, he let the others inside. Mom and Iris must have still been out. That was good for them. Hopefully they wouldn’t realize anything was going on until it was all over.

He led them back into the kitchen, and then they all stood around the table while Noctis flipped through the pages of his book. “This one!” Prompto said about halfway through. “This is the one!”

Slowly, Noctis read through the ingredients. “Fang of the vampire. Houndstooth. Well wishes-- Is this stuff even real?”

“Sure is, and we don’t have fang of the vampire.”

“Where would we go to get some?”

“Dentist’s?” Gladio shrugged. “That’s probably the best bet.”

“I’ll go,” Prompto volunteered.

“I’ll go with you.” Noctis jumped at the bit. “None of us should be caught alone, right?” Gladio didn’t miss the relief that spread over Prompto’s face, and he certainly didn’t miss how close together they walked. He’d tease them for how close they’d gotten so fast if the fact weren’t that he was dealing with a similar thing himself.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Ignis’ voice dragged his eyes over to him. “Letting them go alone?”

“If Ardyn thinks Prompto is working for him, they’re probably the safer group.”

“Then what about us? Are there any protection spells that you can cast?”

For a moment, Gladio let himself get lost in Ignis’ vivid green eyes. Did he have any idea how beautiful they were? “There are,” he said slowly, “but they’d be stronger if you cast them with me.”

“You know I don’t believe.”

“Yet you unlocked the gate to your fortune. You drove back Ardyn.”

“I drove back Ardyn with a blasted broomstick.”

“And magic,” Gladio pressed. “You wished for something in that moment. Your belief didn’t matter then, and now you can’t go back.” He held out his hands. “Either way, it can’t hurt, especially not if you try your hardest.”

Ignis waffled for a moment, and then, not without his signature huff, sat down the spoon he’d picked up and put his hands in Gladio’s. Perfect. Gladio pulled them closer, close enough that he could set his forehead against Ignis’. He could practically hear Ignis grimacing. “Is that strictly necessary?”

It wasn’t. He shushed him instead of saying so. “Repeat after me.” He went slowly, almost word by word, and dutifully, Ignis repeated after him. At the end, there was definitely a release of magic greater than one of them alone. He hoped that Ignis could feel it.

Maybe he did, because he pulled back as soon as the spell settled, and the spoon was picked up again. “You gonna make the potion?”

“Unless you think you can do it better? I am not trusting Noctis with it, and I’m not sure about Prompto either.”

“Nah, I think your hands were made for potions. You’ll need the instant witches brew, though. Second cabinet on the right.” If Ignis thought he was being quiet about muttering heated words about instant packets, he was wrong. It was cute, though. It was kind of pathetic how everything about Ignis had quickly gone from annoying to cute.

He’d deal.

“At least your kitchen is clean,” Ignis commented after some time. “It’s not a dust trap.”

“That’s because someone’s been in here in the last ten years.”

“I was starting to think that’s just how warlocks live. There was a giant spider in a cauldron at Regis’ home.” Gladio remembered. He remembered the conversation that had followed, too. “He addressed it as though it had been a pet.”

“Maybe it was.”

“And what is wrong with a dog or a cat?”

“Nothing,” Gladio chuckled. “Prompto’s got Pryna following him around, remember? Spiders mostly take care of themselves, though.”

“So do cats.”

“Do you have a pet? At home?”

Ignis didn’t answer for a while. He chopped away at ingredients while he waited for the instant brew to work its way up to a boil. “Noctis always wanted a cat.”

“I wasn’t asking about Noctis.”

“I don’t have time. Or space. I won’t be home for much longer anyway. Next autumn I’ll be away to university.”

“What are you going to study?” What did humans study? Gladio had no idea.

“Law.”

“Is that your passion?”

“It’s a good job. A stable place in society.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“I don’t have a passion. Passion is for people with luck. The rest of us must settle for something that will keep a roof above our heads, and something we can do well.”

“That sounds sad.”

“There are two types of people in this world--” Ignis stopped, his head swiveled around. “The world I grew up in,” he amended. “People who know how the world works, and people who haven’t learned better yet.”

“Then why even go back? Assuming Ardyn doesn’t take over everything.”

Ignis sighed. “There’s not much for me there, but at least I know. I know my place. I cannot even imagine a place for me here.”

“Ignis--”

“We’re back!” came Noctis’ voice as the front door opened.

“Ah, lovely.” Ignis sat his knife down and left the room to greet them. Gladio sighed. He felt like he’d been so close to making a breakthrough with Ignis. Now the topic was lost. “Did you get what we needed?”

“Sure did!” Prompto handed over a small paper bag as Pryna yipped in glee.

“Splendid. You two go sit. This shouldn’t take long once I have it all together.”

Noctis and Prompto sat on the other side of the table, chattering away with each other at a pace Gladio couldn’t keep up with. Pryna sat between them, her tail wagging at an even pace. You would almost think there was nothing wrong in the world to look at them. How closely they leaned into one another, how cheery they sounded, sharing candy and laughing.

It was only when Gladio looked over to Ignis at the counter, glancing over at the grimoire and making sure he did everything to the instructions exactly, that he knew something wasn’t quite right.

Gladio got up from his seat. “Ignis.”

“Yes, Gladio?”

“When this is over, maybe we can find a place for you. Here. A place happier than just saying 'it’ll do.'”

Ignis was quiet, and for a whole second Gladio allowed himself to hope that maybe he’d said something appealing to him. Maybe he’d gotten through. And then - “I think it’s time for you to go find that incantation. We can’t get this lantern lit without it, right?”

“Ignis. Please don’t shut me out. I’m trying to help.”

“The incantation, Gladio. There is no help for me. Focus on the town.”

Gladio supposed that for now, that would just have to be that.


	7. In Which Ignis Finds that the Dream's not Ending

Ignis still wasn’t sure any of this was real. At this point, he wasn’t really sure it mattered. He felt unraveled. He’d been pulled apart at the seams and lay in a heap of tatters on the ground, yet he had to keep going. Perhaps he was a raft boat pulled out to the deep sea, slowly being pried apart to pieces.

He’d had dreams about his parents before. Figures of what they might have been. Never had they been anything like the portrait in the manor that would never be his.

He’d almost given up right there, but real or not, he needed to get their father - Noctis’ father - back. Gladio’s father, too. Maybe the dream would end then, and he’d get up to go to school never quite feeling right again.

Real or not, it would end one way or another. He would eventually go back. Things would resume as normal. He’d take tests, he’d do well, no one would bother to notice the effort he put into it. By the end of the week, someone would have hidden something, shoved him back in a locker he was too tall for, tripped him, thrown his lunch in his lap, or something. For all he knew, the bully would have Gladio’s face.

It would go back to normal.

Because this wasn’t normal.

“Ignis. Please don’t shut me out. I’m trying to help.”

He wanted to know when the dream had decided to make Gladio nice. It should have kept him mean and scathing. At least that was something he could deal with. He could not deal with the personality Gladio was now showing him. He could not deal with a boy gently teasing him with candy. He could not deal with someone who wanted to console him when he hurt.

It was so much easier to take a blow in silence or to even lash out at someone who intended to harm him. How was he supposed to accept help? Gladio asked him to not shut him out. He didn’t know how. He wasn’t about to learn. It was too late for that. Besides, when this was all over and he woke up or went back, there would be no Gladio trying to be nice to him.

So there was no point.

He could be attracted to Gladio. He could like Gladio. It still wasn’t real. He wished he’d go back to scathing. It’d hurt less.

He sent Gladio off to get the incantation, and he turned his full attention back to the potion. At least that was straightforward. It was a recipe, nothing more. That he could deal with.

Unfortunately even that was coming to an end by the time Gladio returned with his book. He was instead then subjected to the entirely unwelcome sight of Prompto and Noctis flirting. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Noctis was shy, yet he made friends easily. People trusted him easily. Now that Prompto was considered an ally, of course they’d grown close quickly.

He still didn’t want to see it. He wanted Noctis to be happy. Of course he did, but that was definitely one thing this dream or not dream was getting right. Noctis always got the sugar side of things. It wasn’t something he could change, or even that he would really want to. For all they fought, Noctis was his little brother, and he loved him. Sometimes, Ignis just wished he could be a little more like him.

Gladio said that magic was like wishing. If that were true, there were a great many things Ignis would have by now.

“Come on, you lovebirds, focus.” Both Noctis and Prompto squawked and sputtered at being called lovebirds, but Gladio had certainly gotten their attention. It worked. They stopped talking and started looking at the open incantation before them.

Ignis watched them mouth it as they read. Over and over and over again. Noctis was not the best study. He’d need to read it that many times before he began to remember.

Behind him, the potion began to bubble, and above them, thunder sounded. Prompto went pale. Pryna began to whine. Ignis was going to take both of those things as bad signs. He hadn’t checked his phone in a while, but he suspected that regardless of what time it told him it was, their time was running out.

If this were one of Noctis’ video games, this would be the final boss. At the end of that would come the (usually) happy ending. Noctis believed in those endings. Ignis did not.

The thunder sounded again as Ignis reached for the ladle and the lantern. He had to fill it up with the potion, and then, once it was placed, the warlocks would say the enchantment. In theory, that would light up the Jack o’Lantern. Everything would be all right. In theory.

It was almost time to test theory.

“You two got this down?” Ignis listened to their soft, idle chatter of agreement as he opened the lantern and began to pour the potion inside by ladle-full. It was almost like being at home. It was almost like cooking dinner for Noctis and listening to him chatter about his day while they waited for Regis to return. By dinnertime, Ignis always felt like he was dead on his feet, but tonight he’d reached a whole other level of both physical and emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t jump to hear the thunder sound again. He did jump to hear Gladio’s book being placed on the counter beside him. “Your turn.”

“I don’t really think my knowing it will help.”

“It will. We need every warlock family we can get in on this. You’re the only Scientia. We need you. Four of us may not be enough as it is.”

He wasn’t getting out of this. With a sigh he poured the last of the potion into the lantern and sealed it. He pushed it toward Gladio, and then he turned his attention to the book. He read it three times, and then he closed it. “Is that enough?”

“It’s enough. Let’s go.”

It was actually Noctis who claimed the prize of carrying the lantern. Ignis supposed he should have expected as much, but then, Ignis had also expected a lot more of Noctis saying _“I told you so”_ about the Jack o’Lantern not being lit. Perhaps that too was an insight on exactly how affected by this he really was.

The thunder clapped above them as they walked. Each time it sounded, Prompto’s feet walked a little faster. When they reached the Lucis-Caelum gates, lightning actually shot out of the sky and struck the ground not ten feet in front of them. That was when they all began to run.

When they reached the town square, even Ignis could tell something was wrong. The twilight light that seemed to be Halloweentown’s permanent fixture was gone, replaced with the swirling green storm clouds above them. The town’s warmth was gone, replaced by a frigid cold that soaked him down to his bones almost immediately. Everything was still, even the leaves in the trees didn’t seem to move in the wind.

There was no time. The dream had reached its apex.

“Go!” he hissed, shoving at Noctis’ shoulder. “Quickly!”

Noctis didn’t even bother to glare back at him. He ran, followed by Prompto. In a tandem that would have made Ignis jealous if this hadn’t been so dire, Prompto helped Noctis climb up to the top of the giant Jack o’Lantern. He even managed to pry the top of it off.

But that was where it started falling apart.

The thunder cracked overhead, the lightning struck the ground, and there was Ardyn, hood and all, except . . . he didn’t quite look himself, not the mayor that Ignis had met what now felt like a lifetime ago. No, now he looked properly evil.

The hood added to the look, of course, and so did the hoard of wispy souls swirling around him, but it was the black dripping from his eyes that truly sold it. He was evil incarnate in every way. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you children to respect your elders?!” His voice boomed like the thunder above them. It was almost deafening.

“And you!” He rounded toward the Jack o’Lantern. “I took you in! I let you live! This is how you repay me?! Your father?!”

“You are not my father!” Prompto screamed, and it was a truth that resonated at Ignis’ very core. “Fathers are supposed to love and support their children! All you’ve ever done is use me! Abuse me!”

“Ungrateful brat!”

Ardyn raised a hand toward them. Ignis took a step forward without even thinking about it. “Oh, no you don’t!” Ardyn’s head swiveled toward him like an owl. The grin on his face was maniacal and slotted perfectly with his ichor eyes. “You surprised me once, young Scientia. It won’t happen again. None of you move.” His head swiveled back around, and Ignis knew he was fixing his sights on Noctis, who had slowly been trying to get the lantern down into the pumpkin. “Especially you!”

He snapped his fingers, the soft sound of distantly breaking glass filled Ignis’ ear, and where he crouched over the edge of the Jack o’Lantern’s opening, Noctis froze. “Noct!” He cried out, but it was clear he couldn’t move. Perhaps he couldn’t even hear him. “Release him!” he demanded, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Did you children really think you could stand up to me?” Ardyn cackled. “I am older than all of you combined! I am older than all of your parents combined! The town made a mistake when it didn’t choose me to rule! No matter.” Ardyn raised his hands. He began to float, buoyed by the souls he’d stolen. “Soon I will rule over everything!”

What could they do? How could they--

Fingers tugged at the edge of his sleeve. “Don’t look at me,” Gladio whispered quickly. “Look at Noct.”

Ignis looked as subtly as he could. He didn’t see it at first, but then, he didn’t think he was supposed to. Noctis was moving. It was inch by inch, but it was movement, and it was then that Ignis saw the cause.

The glass he’d heard shattering must have been the bottle that Prompto had given him. It was so very faint, but he saw the outline of Regis with his hands on Noctis’ shoulder. A father giving his son the strength to see his task through. It would be touching, were the emotions inside him not so desperate.

Ignis held his breath.

“When he gets the lantern inside, you run for Prompto to recite. Got it?”

Ignis nodded his head as subtly as he could. An eternity ticked by as thunder roared, Ardyn laughed, and in the background, very softly, Ignis could hear townspeople crying. They were hiding. Of course they were. This town was supposed to be utopia. They didn’t know how to deal with it being threatened.

Noctis dropped the lantern. It landed. They ran.

“I said be still!” Ardyn screamed. They ran faster. Prompto’s hand reached out to catch their own.

“Re-recite!” he hissed in haste. “We have to recite it now!”

Thunder boomed. Rain began to fall, but Gladio and Prompto began to incant. Ignis hesitated. The three of them weren’t enough. “Noct!” He called out, flinging his free hand up toward the Jack o’Lantern. “We need you!”

Despite Regis’ help, the freezing spell clearly still had its grip on Noctis, but he reached. He reached, painfully slowly, until finally Ignis was able to jump up and take his hand. It was cold. It was deathly cold. He pulled.

Like a sack of flour, Noctis’ body fell to the wet ground. Ignis winced. He couldn’t let it matter. “Take his other hand!” Gladio jumped to obey, and then Ignis started chanting. The words didn’t come easily. The rain was freezing. The thunder was loud. The lightning was bright and too close.

He chanted anyway. It wasn’t working. Ardyn kept sending out spells to harm them, to stop them, and all their chanting seemed to be doing was stopping them from striking. It wasn’t making the lantern light up. It was disjointed, out of time. It wasn’t working.

And then he heard Noctis’ voice join. It was a weak whisper at first, but then it got louder, and louder as Noctis stood to his feet. Soon he was screaming it, and then they were all screaming it in tandem. It was like magic. No. It _was_ magic.

It was magic, and then the rain stopped. The thunderclouds cleared from the sky. Their chanting filled the whole space around them, and Ignis heard a small pop inside his own head.

Inside the Jack o’Lantern, the lantern lit and light blinded him for a moment.

When his vision returned, Ardyn was gone. “Where did he go?” Noctis asked as they stopped. Ignis noticed that all of their hands remained linked.

“I think he went into the lantern,” Prompto answered slowly.

“Like a genie?”

“Sort of?” Prompto shrugged. “Except I don’t think he can ever get out.”

Ignis chose not to comment on the fact that this was how sequels started - with the evil villain escaping his magic prison. That was a problem for the future. If this wasn’t really a dream. If this was real. If he ever came back. It was a lot of ifs, and Ignis was going to ignore all of them for now.

Their hands finally fell apart, and Ignis stuck his in his pockets - a feat, considering that he was still soaked and everything wanted to stick together. “What now?”

He didn’t strictly get an answer. Instead he got Noctis shrieking right in his ear. “Dad!” He ran off at the speed of light, and Ignis turned to see exactly what he ought to have expected. It was a small crowd of people, perhaps all the people whose souls had been stolen, led by Regis and Clarus.

Behind him, Pryna woofed and ran off into the crowd. Ignis could just barely make her out greeting another dog and a young blond woman.

A moment later, Gladio took off toward his own father, and that just left him and Prompto standing there like idiots, watching everyone else cry and hug.

All’s well that ends well, he supposed.

He watched Noctis chatter excitedly to Regis, pulling at his arm as they continued to walk. He met Regis’ eyes, sheerly by accident. Regis smiled, and then out of nowhere he was close enough that Regis wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “I am so proud of you,” Regis whispered in his ear.

If this was a dream, this was where he ought to have woken up.

He didn’t.

The rest of the town carried on afterward as though there hadn’t been a showdown for its freedom at its center. Apparently at eleven o’clock on Halloween night, there was a dance in the town square.

Noctis begged to stay for it, and Regis agreed too easily. Ignis found it suspicious, yet when he looked at Regis’ tired face and Noctis’ glee, he kept it to himself. Who was he to destroy their fun?

Gladio took Clarus home. Regis went with them. Prompto and Noctis ran off together - back to the candy shop, Ignis had a sinking suspicion. Ignis? Ignis stayed in the town square. He watched the townspeople put up lights and set up chairs and a table filled with punch and snacks.

When the clock struck eleven, it seemed like the whole of Halloweentown gathered to dance to music played by a group of people that Ignis deeply suspected were vampires. Still, he watched, looking for Prompto and Noctis in the crowd. He would be very surprised if they didn’t show up and dance together.

Indeed, he’d just spotted them in a faraway corner completely wrapped up in each other when he felt something heavy drape over his shoulders and then something equally heavy set down on his head.

When he looked up, he had to catch the brim of his hat to keep it from falling, and he found himself looking up into Gladio’s amber colored eyes. “What’s this?”

“Every warlock needs a cloak and hat.” Gladio reached down and flicked the brim so that it fell back in front of his eyes. “And don’t even say that you’re not a warlock. You proved that and more tonight.”

“Yes, all right,” he sighed. He wasn’t really sure it was an admission. It felt more like choosing not to argue about it. He began to fiddle with his hat and he felt Gladio awkwardly shuffle around him. He was still fiddling when he saw him set down what looked like a carpet bag. Instead of paisleys or flowers, its design was set in moons, cats, and pumpkins. Of course, it was. This was Halloweentown. “What’s that for?”

“You’ll see in a bit. Maybe. Depends on you.”

Ignis finally managed to get the brim turned so that it both stayed on his head and that he could see, and when he looked up, he saw Gladio holding his hand out to him. “Ignis . . . Scienita? Lucis-Caelum?”

“I sign my school papers Scientia.”

Gladio smiled. Ignis hated how much he loved that smile. “Ignis Scientia, would you dance with me?”

Ignis could feel his eyes widen in surprise. Maybe it was more like shock. Out of all the things that Gladio could have said, asking for a dance with him was probably very near the bottom of the list of what he’d expect. He continued to surprise him. He just fixed it, but Ignis wanted to pull the hat down over his face completely. Then he wouldn’t be able to see that smile. Then Gladio wouldn’t be able to see his blush.

“You don’t have to be nice,” he told him. “There are plenty of pretty girls here to choose from.” Without even looking away, Ignis could see a very pink young woman that he suspected was supposed to be a troll straight out of the eighties. She didn’t have a partner yet. If you gave him a minute, Ignis was sure he could spot ten other girls too.

“You’re right, there are a lot of pretty girls. I don’t want a pretty girl.”

“No?”

“No. I want a guy with a smart mouth and a bleeding heart. I want a guy who did the right thing, even when he didn’t believe that any of it was real.”

“And you think that’s me?”

“It could only be you.”

The urge to pull his hat down over his eyes intensified. He ignored it. “Well,” he huffed. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”

He put his hand in Gladio’s outstretched one. If he’d thought that Gladio’s smile could not get any lovelier or brighter, he’d been wrong. Without any visible effort at all, Gladio pulled him to his feet and led him out to dance.

Later Ignis would wonder if the cobblestones themselves weren’t enchanted. Ignis didn’t really know how to dance, yet he wound around the square in Gladio’s arms, spinning and twirling as though he’d taken classes all his life.

He had no idea how long they danced, only that the clock had not yet struck midnight by the time they stopped close to where they’d started, out of breath, overwarm, and yet happy.

“I could dance with you forever,” Gladio whispered.

His left hand released Ignis’ waist to come up to his face. His thumb rested against his lips. Ignis could not help but think back to the candy shop and the way Gladio had pressed the candy to his lips. Apparently Gladio was thinking of the very same thing. “I wanted to kiss you so badly in that moment.” He paused. “I want to kiss you even more now.”

“Actions speak louder than words, Gladio.”

Gladio laughed at him. Ignis could get used to his laugh. “Yeah, I suppose they do,” he said before his hands came up to Ignis’ face and tilted it upwards.

When their lips touched, Ignis knew he’d been wrong earlier. If this was a dream it would have have ended before their kiss ended.

It didn’t.


	8. In Which Noctis Celebrates Halloween

They had stopped trying to dance a while ago. Neither of them had been very good at it, though laughing at their attempts had been fun. Everything was fun with Prompto. Noctis thought that if Prompto had been able to make trying to defeat an evil warlock into an adventure that Noctis would mostly remember as lighthearted and easygoing, then Prompto could make even the most mundane of tasks happy and exciting.

He’d always been able to make friends fairly easily. Ignis said it was his face, though Noctis knew Ignis didn’t really mean it as a compliment. He felt there was a huge difference, though, between making friends easily and what he’d built with Prompto in what was really only a couple of hours.

Most friends he made didn’t sit in his lap, after all, head resting heavily on his shoulder after kissing each other until they were breathless. Most friends he made didn’t leave him feeling like he wanted to live every day just like that. Most friends didn’t leave him wanting to never be without them, even for a minute.

Most friends wouldn’t feel the same way.

“I don’t want you to go,” Prompto whispered, his voice sad.

“I don’t want to go either,” Noctis admitted. It wasn’t just Prompto that made him want to stay, either. Everything about this place made him want to stay. The people, the magic, the aesthetic, the very smell of the air. Everything about Halloweentown made him ache to stay. It made him feel like he belonged here. He could not believe he’d spent fifteen years of his life not knowing about this place.

It screamed home.

Soon it would be midnight, though. Soon his father would come and say it was time to go. If he was lucky, they’d come back next Halloween. A year would pass. It would feel like forever.

“Well, I see you two got very cuddly.”

Speak of the devil.

Prompto all but catapulted himself off of Noctis’ lap, half yelling apologies. Noctis only leaned his head back and nodded. “Hey, dad.” His dad smiled down at him. His eyes were tired. No, his whole being was tired. “Is it time to go back?”

“It’s time to talk about that, yes. Where’s your brother?”

They found Ignis and Gladio dancing together, looking as thought they’d been doing it their whole lives, because of course they did. Ignis was good at everything. Their father pulled them aside, though, and on the grass next to the Jack o’Lantern, their father dropped the biggest surprise of the night. Forget being warlocks. Forget a pocket dimension called Halloweentown. Forget saving said pocket dimension from an evil warlock. This was it. The biggest surprise.

“I’m staying here.”

“What?” Judging by the way that he and Ignis said the word at the exact same time, Ignis agreed. This was the biggest surprise.

“I never thought that coming back here, having my soul stolen, and watching my own sons have to save the world would remind me of what I’d left behind for your mother. I loved your mother. I loved the world as she saw it. She is gone, and I think it’s time for me to return to what I forgot I had.” He paused. “That, and I am very tired. I think interdimensional travel is out of the question until next year.” He paused again, waiting for them to chuckle at his joke. Neither of them laughed. He moved on. “That being said, of course, you may stay as well, if that’s what you want.”

“Of course, that’s what I want!” Noctis looked at Ignis. “That’s what you want too, isn’t it?!”

“No, Noct. I’ll be going back.”

“What?! After everything? After this whole night? This whole thing?! You want to just go back?!”

“I have to.”

“No! You don’t!”

Ignis sighed. It was a sound that couldn’t portray one tenth of the feelings that swirled inside Noctis. “Yes, I do. I know it’s difficult for you to understand. This is your every dream come true. It’s not mine. I had a plan. My life is already in place. I have to see it through.”

“You’ll be alone!”

“I--” Ignis began before he was cut off by a voice behind them.

“He won’t be alone. I’m going too.” Gladio walked around to Ignis’ side. He set down a bag that looked older than the town itself.

“So that’s why the carpet bag.” Noctis wrinkled his nose. Why would anyone want to own something called a carpet bag?

Gladio shrugged. “I knew you were gonna insist on going back. I’m not gonna let you forget about this place. Or me.” He smiled. “Besides, I gotta see what the hype’s about.”

“I would not call it hype.”

Gladio shrugged again. “I’ll be the one to decide that. Anyway. Going with you, and with mom’s bag, we can send things back and forth. You won’t be completely cut off. And,” Gladio turned his head toward their father. “I promise to take good care of him.”

“I believe that to be true,” their father returned softly. For a second he looked like he might cry, but he didn’t. He just shook his head. “If you’re going to get back before the pathway shuts for the year, you’d best get going.”

“Come on, Ignis. We should summon the portal away from the dancing.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

Noctis followed them. They chattered softly to one another, probably already making plans. There were things they’d have to deal with, after all, like why Ignis suddenly didn’t have a brother and father living with him. Why there was suddenly a strange guy in the house.

“Noct?” Ignis asked when he finally noticed that they weren’t alone. “What is it?”

“You’re coming back, right? Next Halloween?”

“Of course. I have to visit my family. Gladio will probably want to return as well.”

“Good. Because you’re not allowed to just leave forever. You have to come back!”

“Oh.” What Noctis left unsaid Ignis seemed to catch. “Noct.” Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Noctis leaned into the hug. It was the second time they’d hugged that night. Before it had probably been years, and yet Noctis didn’t know how he was going to last a year without Ignis by his side. “I will be back. I promise. Even if only for one night a year. I promise.”

“You better!”

They parted, and Noctis looked up at Ignis’ face. He was smiling, but it was weird. “What?”

“I just. I never thought you would cry to be rid of me.”

“You’re my brother!” He pouted. “You’re annoying. But you’re mine. I love you.”

Something in Ignis’ smile broke, yet somehow his smile got bigger. “I love you too, annoying brother of mine. I’ll see you next year.”

“If you don’t come I will hunt you down!”

“I’ll be counting on it.”

Ignis and Gladio left then, and Noctis did not follow. He stood still for a little while, and then Prompto came for him. Noctis found it hard to be sad when Prompto slid their hands together. It just felt right.

Noctis thought that adjusting to the way that time flowed in Halloweentown would be difficult. He thought that a year would drag out on into eternity. Everyone wanted more hours in their day, right? Yet every day feeling like one hundred days was surely too much.

It wasn’t. All too soon, Noctis found himself staring Halloween in the face again. He was sixteen now, and a few days ago Prompto had joined him. It hadn’t changed much. Noctis still felt the same as he had at fifteen. The biggest differences were that now he knew magic. He didn’t know everything about it, but he knew enough.

He knew a little about being in love too. Not everything, but as he stood in the town square hand in hand with Prompto, he felt he knew enough.

“Are you sure they’re going to come through here?” Prompto asked sleepily.

“That’s what the letter said.”

“Well, then they should hurry up.”

“Prom. It’s only been Halloween for like two minutes.”

“Yeah, and I want to go to bed so I can properly enjoy Halloween in the morning.”

Noctis snorted. “Just give it a few minutes, you dork.”

“Nuh. You’re the dork.” Prompto yawned, and Noctis was seriously considering squabbling with him just to keep him awake when the portal popped up out of nowhere. “Finally,” Prompto grumbled. Noctis chuckled. Yeah, it was definitely time to get Prompto to bed after this.

It was Gladio who walked through the portal first, complete with carpet bag. He gave them both a cocky grin before he turned back to the magical doorway and offered out a hand. A gloved hand reached its way through the portal and placed itself in his. Then his brother walked through, looking the same as he had the last time he’d seen him, cloak, hat, and all.

No, not quite all. Rolling behind him was a travel case. That could only mean one thing. “You’re staying?!”

Ignis smiled, and Noctis realized that while he felt like he hadn’t changed much at all, he was looking at a brother he’d never met before. He was excited to get to know him. “I have a very annoying brother.”

“Yeah? Do you?”

“I do, but, as it turns out, he said something very smart last Halloween.”

“Did he? What did he say?”

“He said that one night could change your life.” Yeah, Noctis vaguely remembered saying that, mostly in frustration at not being allowed to celebrate. He got it now, though. Why would he have ever wanted to celebrate Halloween over there when there was this every day? His father had finally explained it as dangerous to celebrate in the human world, especially as an untrained warlock, but to Noctis it was more. So much more.

“As it turns out, my annoying brother was right. One night, and no matter how hard I tried, I found that I couldn’t go back to what I’d been the morning before.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Gladio says there are lawyers here, too, though the laws are different. I think I’m up for the challenge.”

“Great!” Prompto grouched beside him, and Noctis had to put a hand against his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “Can we all go home and get some sleep?”

“Yeah, let’s get you to bed before you kill us all for sleepy time crimes.”

They began the slow walk back to the Lucis-Caelum estate, chatting easily about mundane things that didn’t really matter. The only bit that mattered was that Ignis’ apparent plan was to clean up the Scientia estate and then go from there. It felt nice, just . . . nice beneath the excitement of his family being whole again.

“Finally!” Prompto said as they reached the front gate. “I’m going on ahead!”

Gladio parted ways with them, too. He had a mother, father, and sister he wanted to say hello to, after all. When he was gone, Ignis caught his elbow and said words to him that he never thought he’d head Ignis say. “Happy Halloween, Noct.”

“Yeah,” he responded after stifling a surprised laugh. “Happy Halloween.”


End file.
